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Y 


// 


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'"'^       ^      //A     ^^ 


/ 


1.0 


I.I 


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2.5 


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11.25  i  1.4   i  1.6 


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1 

s 
7 

V 

h 
d 
e 
b 
ri 
n 
n 


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Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 


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TINUED"),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  appliaa. 

IVIaps.  plataa.  charts,  etc.,  mcv  be  filmed  at 
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beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  filmi  fut  reproduit  grftce  d  la 
gAnirositt  de: 

Siminaire  de  Quebec 
Bibliothdque 

Lea  images  suivantas  ont  4t*  raproduitas  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  film*,  et  en 
conformity  avec  las  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Lea  axemplairas  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmis  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premir*  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniAre  page,  qui  comporta  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autras  exempiaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  an  commandant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration  at  an  terminant  par 
la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Kin  dea  symbolas  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
darniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
caa:  le  symbole  — »•  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  dtre 
filmia  A  dea  taux  de  rMuction  diffirants. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seui  clichA.  il  est  film*  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  k  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  baa.  en  prenant  la  nombre 
d'imagas  nteessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrant  la  mAthoda. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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0^0* 


GREAT  CHTes 


OF  THE 


WORLD, 


W  THtIR 


GIORT  AND  IN  THEIR  DESOUTIOU, 


EMBRACIXQ 


CITIES  OF  EUROPE,  ASIA,  ATOICA  ATO  AMERICA. 

OF  THEIR  TIME. 


BY  JOHN  FROST,  LL.  D 

ATTTHOa  or  P,„«>^s  ADVBXTCI..8  O.  TKAVZI.'l.KBS,  .TO 

AUBURN   AND   ROCHESTER-     * 
ALDEN    AND    BEABDSLEY. 
1856. 


V 


for  a  considerable  portion  of  wh..      l\^"^''  ^  "''  '''^'^''^ 
The  lin^its  of  ,he  work  Lav!  "'"'  '"^  '*°'''«°*  «•*>««• 

Parative,,  fe.  of  the  itn  2r Z?'  ^  ""^^"^  ^°-- 
havo  generally  escaped  anv  Tn  ^'^T  °^««'- own  country 
I  We  therefL  no^d T  Irt  ^'  '^ *^°"'  «"^ 
e^pormms  of  the  north  and  the  soutL         ^''     "°°'"'''^^''' 

Plete  desolation,  is  beft^^;::'";,  ^  ^'r""  "°'  ^°°" 
great  cities  of  antiquity  sZJ^  consideration  of  the 
and  decline  or  misfortune  nf  ^'  '"'"P'^''^*i^«  prosperity 
notice.     London   tUml  '"*  "'^'^^  '«  ^"^^  of 

not  escaped  the  ^1::?  ,TZt  n  '''  ^^^^^  ^- 
Vienna.  Madrid,  and  New  Yorfc  l  Pf  t'l^nce,  and  Paris, 
of  a  foreign  enemy  ^  ^'"'  ^^^'^  ^««°  ^^  Possession 

the  departments  of  historTr^T"''  "nj  humble  efforts  in 
from  the  public;ass     iVthtt  ^^^^  ^^^^"^^^ 

I  trust  that  thJ^'Gr  at  Pi         *^\P"°«'Pl« '«  approved, 
garded  with  the  same  deg'r^^^^^       ^-^^:  ^"^  be  re- 

guished  my  other  publicaSn-  '    ^t        ""^''^  ^^  'i'««n- 
literature.  P^^'cations  m  the  same  department  of 


.# 


\ 


\ 


N 


CONTENTS. 

tNTKODtronOX,  .  Piai 

Babtlom,    ....',   ^ 

NiNKVlH,  .  ,  •  •  •  •  •  18 

TniBi '    ^ 48 

Memphis  anp  Hiuowlm  *   , ^^ 

PlRRBPOLI •         •   ^    •         •         .         .     68 

Damascus,       .        .  '•••••.         79 

Palmyka,     ....*.    ®^ 

Baaldkk  or  Baaioad, °® 

Tyrb,  ...  "^ 

Pbtra,     .        .        .    ' ^28 

Thb  Rook-hbwn  CiTiis  or  Ir'du. !" 

Pkkino,  ....  ^^'^ 

Jbrdsaleu,         .        .  *•••••.  167 

Smybna,  .  191 

EviiMva,     . 222 

Sardis, 228 

Thyattba,  .*.*.*. -^^ 

Ancibnt  Cmis  or  AmiuoI. .240 

Athbns,       ,        .  2C0 

Corinth, S"" 

Elis,  .  888 

RoMB,      .        .    '    .    * 8^8 

CONSTANTINOPLl,  ^^2 

Vkniob,  .  420 

Vienna,       .        .*.*,*        *       *       *       *        •        •  ^^3 

St.  Petbrsbuboh,      *   .   '   , ^^* 

Madrid,      .        .  462 

Paris,     ...*.*,  472 

London,      ...            '*•••..  480 
Quebec,  .    * 480 

New  York,         •'.*.*, ^^° 

Nbw  Orlbahs, 601 

Mexico,   .   .   .  *  .  *  , B'? 

Boston,        ,  *   *   *   *   *   •   ♦   .   629 
685 


I 


4 


INTBODUCTIOJV. 


HE  great  cities  of  the 
world  have  an  interest  pe 
culiarljr  their  own.  They 
f|ark  the  progress  of  man- 
k'nd  m  arts,  commerce, 
m  r  "^"'^at'on,  and  thev 
'"-     ^?''^  "  «ort  of  index  to  the 

greatness.     In  examlnJn     1'^^  ^""^   **"  °^  national 
epochs  of  hiLr^TelT;  ""''t  ^"  ^'^--' 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


of  Mr.  Buckley  on  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Ancient 
World,  from  which  I  shall  frequently  quote.  His 
introduction  is  suited  to  my  present  purpose,  and  I 
readily  adopt  the  following  remarks  of  his  in  this 
connexion. 

The  reader  must  not  expect  to  find  in  the  following 
pages  an  elaborate  and  circumstantial  history  of  the 
world,  or  even  of  those  portions  of  it  which  form  the 
titles  of  the  respective  chapters.     Had  I  attempted  to 
detail  the  physical  influences  and  political  events  which 
have  raised  up  cities  in  the  midst  of  deserts,  and,  in 
turn,  left  deserts  where  cities  once  stood ;   had  I  told 
the  separate  story  of  each  individual  among  mankind, 
who  had  appeared  as  their  founder,  revolutionist,  or 
destroyer ;  had  I,  in  a  word,  attempted  to  distil  the 
vast   contents   of    the   writings    and    monuments   of 
antiquity  into  the  present  small  vessel,  I  must  have 
signally  failed  in  the  attempt.     Such  a  history  of  the 
cities  of  the  ancient  world  must  have  been  too  closely 
mixed  up  with  that  of  the  vast  countries  of  which  they 
.  were  but  the  centres ;  the  points  from  whence  so  many 
mighty  areas  of  civilization  expanded,  and  the  hearts, 
as  it  were,  that  fed  and  stimulated  the  life  of  the 
surrounding  nations,  and  with  whose  expiring  glory 
the  renown  of  those  nations  gradually  sank  into  oWivion. 
I  would  rather  hope  that  the  plan  I  have  adopted 
ma,y  lead  the  reader  from  a  contemplation  of  the  salient 
points  of  a  limited  history,  to  the  sublimer  study  of 
the  vast  and  entire  scheme  of  historical  humanity      I 
would  rather  wish  him  to  look  upon  these  sketches  as 
outlines  to  be  filled  up  by  the  gradual  maturing  of  his 
own  thoughts  and  readings  in  historic  lore.    The  great 


•,f. 


INTRODDOTIOir.  tr 

feult  of   too  many  of  our  historiea,  is,   th*t  tktr 
are    circumstantial    und    accurate,   yet    lifeloM    and 
unpicturesque.      While    the    minutest   questions   of 
chronology  are  reduced  to,  at  all  events,  a  specious 
appearance  of  system;  while  identity  or  distinction  in 
the  case  of  persons  bearing  the  same  name  is  insisted 
upon   with    exemplary  precision ;    and  while    every 
authority    ancient   or  modern,  is  sifted,  questioned, 
and  proved,  history  still  remains  a  bare  detail  of  facti 
and  persons,  treated  as  if  separable,  and  viewed  with 
the  taste  of  an  anatomist,  who  loses  his  admiration  of 
the  majestic  ocean  in  his  microscopic  examination  of 
the  minutest  infusoria  with  which  its  inmost  recesses 
are  peopled. 

It  was  the  knowledge  of  this  defect  that  led  the 
great  reformer  of  ancient  history,  Niebuhr,  to  adopt 
the  more    comprehensive  style   of   narrative  in  hu 

th^r.f' '  M  ^°T"   ^'''''y"    ^"«°&  doubtless, 
that  the  noble  work  m  which  he  had  already  set  forth 
and  defended   his  ingenious   theories,  was  far  more 
learned  than  popular,  he  was  too  wise  to  persist  in  an 
unmstruct^ve  system ;  and  his  lectures,  handed  down 
to  us  by  the  praiseworthy  diligence  of  his  pupils,  have 
almost  superseded  his   "History"  in  their  influence 
upon  the  studies  of  youth.     Dr.  Arnold,  who,  without 
adding  much  to  our  stock  or  Luowledge,  was  a  judicious 
and  tasteful  adapter  of  the  labours  of  other  scholars, 
rendered    the  same    system  yet   more    popular    by 
his  greater  elegance  of  language;  and  the  smallest 
acquaintance  with  German  historical  works-so  many 
of  them  now  familiarized  to  ourselves  by  translation- 
will  furnish  a  fair  staff  of  goodly  imitators  of  an 


•  MWRODUCTIOir 

•tcellent  pnnciplo.  It  is  in  humble  imitation  of  auch 
^arnples,  that  I  have  sought  to  give  a  broad  outline 
<tf  he  histories  of  the  most  interesting  cities  of  the 
wor  d,  to  pomt  to  their  doings  »nd  sufferings,  as  the 
workings  of  the  mechanism  of  humanity,  ever  pressing 
forward,  but  by  complicated  nnd  uncertain  movements; 
to  the  renhzation  of  the  eterna)  design,  «„d  to  connect 
man  s  works  with  man's  nature,  not  to  admire  them  as 
isolated  specimens  of  foregone  ingenuity. 

When   we    view  the    sand-buried    monuments    of 
Egyptian  magnificence   0*1  their   own  site,  or  study 
tho  fragments  which,  thousands  of  mifes  away  from 
the  places  they  adorned   for  ages,  form  the  greatest 
ornaments  of  our  own  museums;  when  we  read  of  the 
conrulsions  of  nature,  and  the  wars  of  men,  which  have 
I«:oduced  va3t  and  sudden  ruin,  or  when  we  examine 
the  minute  polypus  which  has  wrought  as  sure,  but 
moro  tardy  destruction  in  Calabria,  than  its  deadly 
predecessor  the   earthquake,  we  feel  that   even   iU 
worm  and  the  moth"  have  their  niche  in  the  temple 
of  history      What  the  headlong  swoop  of  armed  forces 
has  spared,  that  the  minutest  things  of  earth  have 
claimed  for  their  own,  and  the  same  almost  invisible 
agency  that  h^s  partitioned  the  depths  of  the  ocean 

mlC^U  /      '  t"'  ''*'"   '^^'^y  '^'  well-ehiselled 
marbles  that  once  bore  witness  to  the  pride  of  man's 

greatness      Did  ^e  seek  to  write  history  with  perfect 

s^blSnsT  '"**^"*  '"^  '''-''>  ^-  -^'^-  ^- 

But  in  defence  of  our  plan  of  choosing  the  history 

of  cities  rather  than  co«ntries,  it  may  be  well   tc 

observe  that  the  most  natural  feelings  of  men  lead 


1 


iMnonucrroiT. 

commence  ehcir  Zol7      Ti"'"  ''°''"  "''•'''   '» 
Plain.    Tl,er«t   f     "  ?„^'""''  ""  «»«»'""-7 

naturally  and  in«nn..v  n  London    is   as 

ofEngii:d':s:-fzr't::r^-r^^- 

%ypt.     To  the  studen    of     TT,  ^'^7  ""''  ""^•'^"t 
corner  of  this  wido  .„  m  .  ^''''''"'"'  ^'^''''^  e^'ery 

"»ves  ,•„  „  ,e,,  ,,.„„„„,  .;^^:;,r";'^,    O^r'-PO" 
"here  man  has  worked  «n,l  ,J  V.  l  t™co  man 

history   in    the       '  ,1"'      "',°"8'"  •-"'.  '»  rca,!  hia 

Ihoae  who  huM  the.a,     Wo,   II  hi  '"''  ""^  "^ 

of  the  citie,  which  a  e  o„  11       ■  T'  °''™"''  "'°  '■'''"» 
'0  the  men  of  „ld_  ™  °"  .""^'•■"■"'""y  ""d  silent  guides 

'^-.  ....i  .0  pc„;„eThor'w  :::,;;;;:: '"  rr 

once  strove  and  failed,  loved  an,    u"?  !'"""»"*  '^'"> 
n>en  of  onr  own  ,in,cs  ""^^  ""'-  «»  «>• 

protrtL'ttrdal"""  """  "  "''"  °f  --«ve 
PHnciple's  hettel  tetainr  thT  thT it ""^-'" 
"ncerlain  history  of  „a,io„,  T  "^  ""-yng  and 
the  stand-points' of  hiC;  '  o^r'as"'  ""T  '" 
prevalence  of  mythical  assoeia&r. M  T^  ""  "" 
every  ancient  eity,  the  fraZnt     /  °°''™°''» 

»'-P  even  tradiL  with  f  ««!  °°'"""  ""''""'e' 
Although  every  temple  is  br.!'  TT.°'  ™'''^- 
«en.e  lifeless  s«pers«tion_. "fol""""*  "^ 

-n-sforgetfuInessofhisGod-ytlr   '""'■    " 

jet  in  the  magnitude 


\i  ' 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


of  the  dimensions,  the  exquisite  finish  of  the  details  of 
Buch  buildings,  -we  trace  the  vestiges  of  human  power, 
and  marvel  at  the  wondrous  works  performed  in 
an  age  where  physical  force  derived  little  aid  from 
mechanics,— when  machinery  was  most  rude  and 
elementary,  and  when  every  newly  raised  structure 
seemed  a  fresh  triumph  over  stubborn  materials  and 
imperfect  resources. 

Nor  let  us  forget  that  it  is  in  the  ruins  of  ancient 
cities  that  we  find  the  pictured  chronicles  of  the  habits 
and  customs  of  the  early  world.  On  the  facades  of 
the  temples  at  Edfou  or  Salsette,  on  the  slabs  which 
line  the  exhumed  palaces  of  Nimroud,  we  behold  our 
forefathers  occupied  in  all  the  arts  of  war  and  peace ; 
and  from  these  rude,  but  spirited  efforts  of  the  chisel, 
we  learn  the  dress,  the  arms,  the  sports,  the  domestic 
and  political  life  of  those  who,  though  not  forgotten, 
are  now  unrepresented  among  the  catalogue  of  nations. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  matter  of  complaint  that  a 
detached  notice  of  eacli  city  has  been  preferred  to  a 
systematic  and  progressive  history,  arranged  with  a 
more  strict  reference  to  chronology.  To  this  objection 
I  can  only  oppose  the  intent  of  the  book.  I  offer  not 
a  history,  but  a  series  of  historical  sketches.  I  do  not 
mention  all  the  cities  of  the  world,  but  those  which  are 
the  best  representatives  of  human  progress  ;  in  a  word, 
I  do  not  seek  to  supersede  the  reading  of  larger  and 
more  learned  works,  but  to  give  the  student  some  zest 
for,  and  some  regulated  principle  of  reading  whereby  he 
may  the  bettor  enjoy  and  profit  by  the  manifold  learning 
and  industry  of  the  great  writers  of  man's  history. 

To  enumerate  the  authorities  that  have  supplied  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


u 


^curate  in  r.Z^i,Lt\C^77f  '°  "" 
making,  however,  .  L  ZZc^Z  tt       T'"' 

--ory.  an.  that  .He  uJL27ZZ' r^^",^ 

that  severest  difficulty  in  iuvenilp  ,f.,^       •         ^     °^ 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


BABYLON. 

HATEVER  may  have  been  the 
energy  and  intelligence  of  Nim- 
rod,  the  Romulus  of  the  East- 
ern Tforld,  and  great  as  may 
have  been  the  results  brought 
about  by  the  crafty  and  reso- 
lute policy,  Babel  must  have 
_       .M     .     ^  ^^^^  ^^  infant  city  in  compari- 

on  with  the  Babylon  of  a  later  period.  Bel„s  i^by 
common  consent,  the  prince  to  whom  much  of  the  ma/ 
nificence  of  this  city  owed  its  origin,  and  although  the 


14 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Bible  furnishes  us  with  no  information  as  to  hi«  l«n, 

facts  In^;      }     ^''°'°'  fashionable  to  explain  away 
tacts,  and  to  reduce  real  personaeea  to  iA.J  ^ 

ia.  .h»,  been  cal  ed  •„  ZtL     B^T^  ^™'™™ 
to  such  theory  is  i.,  easy  pro„e„e,f  „  ItJe''  t" 

no  doubt,  extremely  deficient  in  inf      '"'^nce,  we  are, 
K^     r  J  «,,   •'^  uencient  in  information  that  pan 

be  rehed  on.     Those  who  would  judge  of  thp  I       ? 
of  Ouppn  T;'i,Vr.i.-.*k  e         ,        ''  ^     *  *"®  character 

trad.t,on,  attached  to  the  memory  of  Lucre  Ibo  J' 
«„M  porhape  feel  eatisfled  withl  loo  e TarrauXf 
P^.c  greatnesa  and  private  crime,  through  whiTt 
memory  of  Sem.r.m«  haa  reached  our  timea.    Mora 


BABYLON. 


16 


philosophical  readers  will  rather  consider  these  narra- 
tives   as   springing  from  opposite  views  of  the  same 
character,  ..nd  as  therefore  equally  prone  to  exaggera- 
tion, jilthougl.  iu  dilToiont  direction...     Incect,  murder, 
and  troiichcry  on  the  one  hand,  intelJuctii.ii  vigour,  un- 
bounded  liberality,  and  public  spirit  on  the  other,  form 
the  contradictory  features  of  the  picture  held  up  to  our 
view.    Nevertheless,  Semiramis  divides  the  honour  with 
Belus  of  being  the  founder  of,  at  all  events,  the  new 
Babylon,  and  it  is  of  this  city  in  its  days  of  glory  that 
we  will  now  attempt  a  description. 

Before  detailing  the  account  given  by  the  ancient 
traveller  and  eye-witness,  Herodotus,  wo  may  observe 
that   the  flatness  of  the  surrounding  country  greatly 
favours  its  probability.    Its  massive  walls,  unlike  those 
forming  the  colossal  rampart  of  China,  had  to  traverse 
no  devious  hill  ranges,  to  depress  themselves  into  no 
valleys.     Hence  the  geometrical  regularity,  which  is 
so  seldom  found  even  in  the  most  modern  towns  and 
cities,  becomes  not  only  easy,  but  natural.    Further- 
more,  if  the  Babylonians,  as  there  is  good  reason  to 
suppose,  had  really  made  some  progress  in  astronomy 
the  restoration  of  the  Tower  of  Babel  Under  its  now 
form  of  the  Temple  of  Belus  was  a  probable  step,  espe- 
cially  as,  commanding  a  survey  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try,  It  might  have  readily  indicated  the  approach  of  an 
invading  enemy. 

Babylon  formed  an  exact  squars,  each  of  the  sides 
being  one  hundred  and  twenty  furlongs  (fifteen  miles) 
m  length,  and  its  whole  circuit  four  hundred  and  eichty 
furlongs,  or  twenty  leagues.  Its  walls  were  eighty-seren 
feet  m  thickness,  so  that  several  chariots  could  run 


16 


GREAT  CITIBS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


th« T-  uT  ^''  '"'"°^^*'  '""^  '^'y  ^«re  reared  to 

^tch  tv  I  *^'''  ^'""^'•'^  '^"^  ^^'y  f^^*'  The  vast 
dith  which  encompaased  the  walls  had  furnished  the 
.  matenals  for  the  large  bricks  of  which  it  was  com! 
po-e  and  which  also  formed  the  lining  of  the  d  tch. 
The  ayers  of  bnck  were  cemented  with  bitumen,  abun- 

five  /  "'';\   '  *''  ''''  "  *'^  neighborhood.  Twen". 
five  gates  of  brass  on  each  of  the  four  sides,  formed 

tlZT         *°  \«-"«Ponding  number  of  streets 
in  ersecting  one  anooher  a.  right  angles,  each  street 
being  fifteen  miles  in  length  and  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  in  width.    To  complete  the  internal  arrangement^ 
four  other  streets,  with  houses  only  on   one  fide  the 
ramparts  being  on  the  other,  were  added,  each  boit 
two  hundred  feet  in  length.     By  this  preci;e  regularity 
of  arrangement,  Babylon  was  divided  into  six  hundred 
and  seventy-six  squares,  each  square  being  two  miles 
and   a  quarter    in    circuit.     The    houses  were  very 
lofty,  being  carried  to   the  height  of  three  or  four 
stones;  but  the  width  of  the  streets,  and   the  open 
courts  and  gardens  within  hollow  squares,  must  have 
produced  a  perfect  ventilation  and  a  healthy  openness 
that  form  a  strange  contrast  to  the  cramped,  irregular, 
and  unhealthy  streets  in  some  of  the  most  refined  and 
civihzed  of  modern  cities,  even  in  our  own  country.    It 
18  probable  that  the  streets  nearest  the  walls  were  de- 
voted to  mercantile  aff^airs  and  to  the  preservation  of 
stores,  while  those  nearer  the  centre  formed  the  resi- 
dences  of  the  higher  classes.     The  Euphrates  inter- 
sected  the  city  from  north  to  south,  and  over  it  was 
erected  a  magnificent  bridge,  about  a  furlong  in  length 
»nd  sixty  feet  in  width.    At  its  extremities  were  two 


BABYLON. 


17 


ralaces,  the  old  palaco  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river 

li  r  r ;  V;'  "''"'"'■  ^^-^  "■" »« p^'-ce  stood 

the  temple  of  Eelns.     We  will  liatm  .o  .1,.  j       •  '■ 
of  the  Father  of  History""  °  desor.pt.on 

0«i^^  ;;  «"'"  "™"'"«  °P  '"Wo™  time, 

quadrang^ar,  and  occupying  a  space  of  ™o  furlong, 

In  the  middle  of  the  sacred  precinct  stands  a  soTid 

ower,  a  furlong  both  in  depth  and  width;  upon  this 

tower  another  is  erected,  and  another  upon  this,  to  h 

number  of  e.ght  towers.    An  ascent  to  them  hL  been 

formed  on   the- outside,  in  a  spiral  staircase  runn  ng 

round  »I  the  towers.    As  one  reaches  about  half  wly* 

resting-places  and  seats  are  provided.    In  the  last 

a7/''l!'/   7°  '''.™'  ""'^  """■'  ""'  '™Pl'=  lies  a 
arge  bed  well  appointed,  and  near  it  stands  a  golden 

able ;  but  there  is  no  image  within ;  nor  does  aiVone 

he  god  has  chosen  m  preference  to  all  others,  as  say 
the  Chaldeans,  who  are  the  priests  of  the  god.    And 
these  same  men  assert  what  1  can  by  no  means  believe 
namely,  that  the  god  himself  frequents  the  tempi  ,  and 
reposes  on  the  couch.  And  there  belong,  to  the  temple 
m  Babylon  another  shrino  lower  do™,  who  e  the' , 
s  ands  a  large  golden  image  of  the  god,  ^nd  near  it  i! 
placed  a  large  golden  table,  and  the  pedestal  and  the 
throne  are  of  gold;  and,  as  the  Chaldean,  asserMh  se 
things  were  made  for  eight  hundred  talents  of  go  d 
And  outs.de  the  shrine  is  a  golden  altar;  and  there  is 
also  another  great  altar  where  offerings  of  sheep  l^ 

*  HeroiIotuB,  1. 181. 
2* 


L= 


18 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TUB  WORLD. 


BacriScerl,  foi  it  is  not  lawful  to  sacrifice  victims  upon 
the  golden  altar,  but  sucklings  only;  but  upon  the 
greater  altar  the  Chaldseans  offer  every  year  a  thousand 
talents  worth  of  frankincense  at  the  time  when  they 
celebrate  the  festival  of  the  god.  And  there  was  at 
that  time  a  golden  statue  in  the  temple  twelve  cubits 
in  height ;  but  I  did  not  see  it,  and  speak  merely  from 
the  report  of  the  Chaldseans." 

The  whole  of  the  temple  was  enriched  with  the  offer- 
ings of  private  devotees,  consisting  of  massive  golden 
censers,  statues,  cups,  and  sacred  vessels,  of  a  weight 
and  value  scarcely  to  be  imagined. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  external  form  of  this 
tower,  with   th->  stones   gradually  tapering  in  width, 
gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  pyramidal  edifice.     Such 
structures  are  common  in  India,  the  finest  specimen 
bemg  the  great  pagoda  at  Tanjore,  dedicated  to  the 
god  Siva.    It  is  about  two  hundred  feet  in  height,  and, 
like  the  temple  of  Belus,  stands  within  an  area  enclosed 
by  high  walls,  and  contains  a  chamber  that  receives  no 
light  but  from  lamps.     Such  buildings  have  also  been 
discovered  in  Mexico.     Strength  of  form  and  conve- 
nience  m  building— such  structures  forming  their  own 
scaffolding  by  their  ascending  platforms— are  obvious 
reasons  for  the  adoption  of  the  pyramidal  style  in  the 
infancy  of  architecture,  the  rude  state  of  implements, 
and  the  rough  simplicity  of  mechanical  appliances. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  another  wonder  of  Babylon,  her 
palace  and  hanging  gardens,  which  claimed  a  pkce 
among  the  wonders  of  the  ancient  world.  But  we  must 
first  briefly  advert  to  the  character  and  career  of  Ne- 


BABYLON. 


It 


buchadnemr,  th,  most  magnificent  of  Babylon'.  t,n« 
to  whom  they  owed  their  origin.  ^' 

rvelfwL  „V    ""'''r''  '"'"^y.''"'  »h«I'  content 
mysof  wth  observmg  that  Nebuebadnemr  had  been 
a,3oc.a..d  .n  the  Ch.,d».„  empire  with  hi.  faZr,  ^ 
bopola.ear,  and  that  hia  first  appearaneo  in  history  i, 
as  a  conqueror.     Having  recovered  Carchemish,  whlh 
about  ;7;ri  '"•''  "^^P^oVPharaohNecho 
mc.ans  and  the  Jews,  carrying  Jehoiachim,  king  of 
Jadah    into  captivity,  but  subsequently  lei^vin/him 
m  JudK.  stipulating,  however,  for  the  payment*  of™ 
heavy  tnbute.     The  details  of  the  .ubse'q/ent  revolt' 
of  tl^o  Jews    termmating  in  the  death  of  the  nnfor- 

reCel*'''''"-"'^'-'-^'----^-. 

It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  Nebuchadnemr  wa. 

rathtr  r'  I' ^ ^  »  ""  '""^  '»-''»  J*^^"-™ 
tw  ri.  !u  J  '"""""'y'  '"^  "»  '"V  fairly  suppos^ 
that,  hke  the  Roman  emperors  at  .  subsequent  peril 
he  had  perceived  the  irritable  and  nncertain  disposition 
of  the  Jews,  and  preferred  a  conciliating  compromise 
to  an  attempt  to  rule  them  as  a  conquered  natio^ffi^ 

B  TssT'tharr-  f  "'""•'•  '""  "™  ■"»*  »ti 
further. r'ouble   ^'™"'™""'«"? -l-ed,  gave  no 

both  of  troops  and  treasure,  loaded  with  the  spoil,  „f 


n  i 


»'  GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

hSrV'^ii^"''  ""^  ^'^^  ^  ^^^''"^  '^"'^  determination 
heightened  and  matured  by  constant  experience,  Nebu 
ohadnez^ar  entered  on   the   government  of  Babylon. 
How  far  ,e  may  have  entertained  right  notions  con- 

whether  th.s  "  vessel  of  wrath  "  had  had  his  heart  soft: 
ened  and  h,s  pnde  rebuked  by  a  consciousness  of  the 
tru  h  ^e  cannot  clearly  judge.  But  we  have  good 
rea  on  for  supposing  that  he  was  not  a  mere  heathen, 
ha  his  mmd  was  at  times  awakened  to  the  truth,  and 
that  he  may  have  been  an  object  of  God's  final  mercy, 
as  well  as  an  mstrument  of  his  anger.  Of  the  melanl 
choly  story  of  h.s  blindness  of  heart,  his  deadly  pride, 

speak  "^'^'^^  ''"'''  ^°°"  ^^^«  °--'°"  t<; 

Nebuchadnezzar,  having  finished  the  work  of  con- 
quest turned  his  attention  to  aggrandizing  the  magni- 

thro?.  ;:  "T7"°"'  "*^-  ^^P^'"  '^"d  <i--atfons 
throughout  the  old  portions  of  the  city,  and  new  public 
bu.ld.ng3  of  wonderful  extent  and  beauty,  gave  Lbu! 
chadnezzar  a  c  aim  to  be  considered  a  second  founder 
of  "  the  lady  of  kingdoms." 

The  hanging  gardens  which  adorned  the  new  palace 

contained  an  area  of  four  hundred  square  feet,  and 

were  composed  of  several  large  terraces,  the  uppermost 

^of  which  stood  on  a  level  with  the  summit  of  ihe  city 

walls.     The  ascent  from  one  terrace  to  another  was  by 

staircases   ten   feet   in   width.     This   vast   mass   was 

supported   by  large   arches,   built   one  upon  another, 

externally  strengthened  by  a  wall  twenty-two  feet  in 

thickness    covered  with  stones,  rushes,  bitumen,  -and 

plates  of  lead,  to  prevent  leaking.     On  the  highest 


1 


BABYLON.  m 

terrace  was  «n  aqueduct,  supplied  with  water  from  the 
river  by  a  pump,  from  whence  the  whole  gardens  were 
Muitered.     Tradition  assigns  this  splendid  work  to  the 
affectionate  complaisance  of  Nebuchadnezzar  for   his 
wife  Amyt,8  the  daughter  of  Astyages,  who  retained 
ayearn.ng  for  the  mountains  and  forests  of  Media. 
Qumtus  Curtius,  a  picturesque  though  careless  writer, 
assures  us  that  these  gardens  presented,  at  a  distance 
the   appearance   of  a   forest   growing   on   its   native 
mountams.    The  effect,  in  a  country  so  flat  as  Babylon 
and   so  doficent   in   rich   scenery,   must    have   been 
magnihcent. 

Altl,„ugl,  tliese  h«„gi„g  g„den,  ,re  not  mentioned 
..  Scnpturo,  tl.e.e  is,  neverthcleas,  pathetie  reference 

the  banks  of  the  Euphrates.    Here  were  the  "wilJows" 

on  wl„eh  the  captive  children,  who  had  so  oft  forgotten 

h       God,  l„.  who  clung  with  sad  remembr.fce  to 

valley  of  willows"  the  captive  Moabites  were 
transported  The  language  of  the  Psaln,ist  wou  d 
lead  us  to  beheve  that,  besides  the  Euphrates,  Babylon 
was  .rngated  by  a  considerable  number  of  st;eam.  anS 
r.vulets,  which  probably  gave  an  additional  coolness 
and  beauty  to  the  open  courts  and  gardens,  that  fll.Vd 
the  open  squares  throughout  the  city. 

W,th  reason,  then,  might  the  inspired  prophets  vie 
wth  each  other  ,„  eulogising  Babylon  a.  •  th   great,' 
the  ,t  A,  whole  earth,"  "the  beauty  of  tie 

ChaUees  exce  lency."    W-h  reason  might  profan 
authors  revel  ,„  descriptions  of  it,  might  and  its 
m.gn,fice„ce.      Yet  was   it  with  Babylon,   a,   „i^ 


0>, 


u 


•i  ORBAT  OITIKS   OF  TBH  WORLD. 

Mcient  Rom,  It  fell  a  prey  to  the  foe,  when  its 
greatnew  Bcemed  consumnmted.  The  gjorioas,  sue- 
2»f"I,  and  luxurioua  reig-  of  Nebuchadnezzar  was 
ttit  hectic  flush,  the  dazzling  glare,  which  heralded  the 
decay  that  was  corroding  its  inward  frame;  it  was  the 
blaze  of  the  fire  that  was  to  give  pkce  to  blackened 
ruins  and  smouldering  ashes. 

Vice,  dissipation,  and  extravagance  in  every  form 
were  the  characteristics  of  the  Babylonians  in  subse' 
quent   times  ;   and   although   we   may  suppose   their 
degradation  to  have  been  arrested  during  the  life  of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  though  his  valour  and  determination 
ma/ have  curbed  the  progress  of  evil,  yet  it  is  highly 
probable  that  the  progress  of  crime,  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  idolatry,  had  already  set  in,  and  was  rapidly 
doing  Its  work.     Furthermore,  it  has  ever  been  the 
policy  of  conquerors  to  amuse  their  people,  rendered 
restless  by  a  previous  life  of  excitement  and  plunder, 
by    he  more  seductive,  but  less  revolutionary,  allure- 
ments of  pleasure  and  pageantry.     The  supposition 
that  some  such  motives  stimulated   the  conduct   of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  derives  additional  corroboration  from 
the  fact  that  the  population  brought  to  Babylon  were 
a  mixed  people,  chieily  composed  of  captives  of  all 
nations.     Among  such  a  people,  there  must  have  been 
certain  desperate  characters,  to  whom   the   smallest 
hope  of  success  would  have  acted  as  a  satisfactory 
reason  for  revolt ;  and  the  surest  way  to  deaden  the 
Bensibihty  of  men  to  their  dependent  c^ondition    v  o  ' 
be  to  make  that  condition   as  agreeable  as  pos.oie, 
by  appealing  to  man's  worst  passions  and  stronges 
propensities.  ^ 


BABTLOir.  n 

But  the  king  himself  had  well  niirh  fall«n  .  »■  *• 

tut  bo»ed  to  h,m  .,  lord  and  D,.,ter,  and  Berha„, 

JOg  to  himself  the  amount  of  hi.  troasuro,,  ,h«  kin, 

have  bmit  for  tho  hon,e  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  n>i,ht 
of  my  p<„„r,  and  for  the  honour  of  my  ^aLty?"  * 

ternaed  king.     Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  vauntin' 
«oIam.t,o„  "while  the  word  wae  in  hi.  mou  h,  "h  rf 

neiar  tTtlr^'"'?  "^'"«'  °  ""«  ^eb    h.  ! 

=ri;'i-t;'dtt!t:^:rr 

oi,-ii  ,         grass  as  oxen,  and  seven  timoa 

.hall  pass  over  thee,  until  thou  know  that  the  mZ 
H.gh  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  give th  it  to 
whomsoever  he  will."  givetn  «  to 

Whether,  by  thi.  terrific  denunciation,  Nehuchad 
or  ThetTe:  ZVT""  '°  ""  ■=°»^'«™  ""~. 

-companied   ,he  private    moments   of   the  greatt 
..nqneror.  and   the  sternest  politicians;    and  mild, 

;^:oXrrr.rdrora'^'r-^"^- 

-lling  in  man.,  powe^f  ^uV^^^TZi 


u 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


scripture  narrative  is  fearfully  distinct  in  its  narrative 

as  a  fact.     "  The  same  hour  was  the  thing  fulfilled 

upon  Nebuchadnezzar  :  and  he  was  driven  from  men, 

and  did  eat  grass  as  oxen,  and  his  body  was  wet  with 

the   dew   of  heaven,  till   his   hairs   were  grown  like 

eagles'   feathers,    and    his   nails   like    birds'    claws." 

Besides,  the  moral  lesson  to  a  sinning  and  idolatrous 

nation  would  have  been  lost,  if  a  mere  seclusion-seeking 

monomania  or  lycanthropy  had  been  the  only  infliction. 

How  much  more  vividly  would  the  sensual  Babylonians 

have  been  impressed  with  God's  power,  more  terribly 

awed  by  its  effects,  if  they  beheld  him,  to  whom  they 

had  addressed  every  mark  of  oriental  adulation   and 

reverence,  grovelling  amidst  the   beasts  of  the  field, 

bereft  alike  of  the  power  of  the  king  and  the  dignity 

of  the  man ! 

At  the  expiration  of  the  time  foretold,  Nebuchad- 
nezzar awoke  to  a  consciousness  of  dawning  reason, 
and  with  a  gladdened  and  grateful  heart  broke  forth 
into  thanks  for  the  mercy  shewn  by  Ilim,  "  whose 
works  are  truth,  and  his  ways  judgment :  and  those 
that  walk  in  pride  he  is  able  to  abase." 

There  is  every  reason  to  suppose  that  this  fearful 
lesson  took  efi"ect,  at  least  with  the  thinking  class  of 
men,  and  that  the  court  for  some  time  set  the  example 
of  the  worship  of  the  true  God.  But  this  repentance 
was  but  short  lived.  A  gigantic  image  was  erected  in 
the  plains  of  Dura,  and  the  whole  people  recalled  to 
the  practice  of  idolatry.  The  noble  resistance  of  the 
three  Jewish  captives,  and  their  miraculous  deliverance 
from  the  flames  to  which  they  had  been  condemned, 
are  circumstances  too  well  known  to  need  recapitulation. 


IL 


U'-v- 


BABYLOy. 


i$ 


Modern  writers  seem  to  concur  in  placing  the  death 
of  Nebuchadnezzar  in  the  same  year  as  this  last  defec- 
tion from  the  oft-offended  Almighty.  I  must,  however 
express  my  opinion  that  Prideaux  is  more  correct  in 
following  the  simple  narrative  of  Daniel,  and  in  making 
the  death  of  Nebuchadnezzar  follow  his  restoration 
from  madness.  His  decease  is  generally  placed  about 
B.  C.  562. 

With  Nebuchadnezzar  the  glory  of  Babylon  departed. 
His  son  Evil-Merodach  was  a  vicious  and  profligate  prince, 
but  displayed  much  kindness  and  liberality  towards 
the  conquered  king  of  Judah,  Jehoiachin.  His  brief 
reign  of  two  years  was  only  distinguished  by  unbridled 
indulgence  of  evil  passions,  extravagance,  and  indolent 
mismanagement ;  and  a  conspiracy  of  his  own  relations 
involved  himself  and  his  luckless  favourite  in  untimely 
destruction. 

But  it  was  not  until  the  reign  of  Nebuchadnezzar's 
grandson,  Belshazzar,  that  Babylon  began  to  experience 
the  sad  reverses  with  which  the   prophets  had  long 
since  threatened  her,  and  of  which  we  shall  make  fuller 
mention  when  we  view  her  in  her  ruined  and  desolate 
condition.     Irreligion  and   immorality  had  increased 
tenfold ;   and  when  the  king,  in  a  moment  of  frenzied 
pride,  brought  out  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  temple  of 
the  Jews,  to  be  polluted  by  the  lips  of  idol- worshippers 
and  hcentious  concubines,  the  miraculous  handwritin<r 
on  the  wall  proclaimed  that  the  cup  of  wrath  was  filled 
up,  and   that   the   days  of  the   wicked   prince   were 
numbered. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  death  of  Belshazzar 
followed  almost  immediately.  During  the  time  that  had 


»0  OAEAT  CITIBS  OP  THE   WORLD. 

elapsed  in  sending  for  the  wise  men,  and  subsequently 
for  Daniel,  to  interpret  the  mysterious  writing,  Cyrus 
had   entered   the  city,   and   penetrated   to  the  very 
interior  of  the  palace.   Belshazzar  had  held  out  against 
the  enemy,  and  had  retained  the  empire  for  seventeen 
years;  but  this  was  to  be  attributed,  not  to  his  own 
bravery  or   wisdom,  but  to  the  able  conduct  of  the 
queen-mother,  Nitocris.    So  celebrated  was  this  woman 
for  her  energy  and  foresight,  that  "  Herodotus  speaks 
of  her  as  if  she  had  been  sovereign,  and  attributes  to 
her  all  those  works  about  Babylon,  which  other  authors 
ascribe  to  her  son."     The  great  lake,  however,  and 
the   canal,  which  this   queen  had  completed,  proved 
fatal   to   the   city;    foi    Cyrus,    having   drained   tho 
Euphrates  by  means  of  the  receptacle  thus  afforded 
for  the  superfluous  waters,  was  enabled  to  enter  Baby- 
lon.    And  in  after-days,  by  the  breaking  down  of  the 
banks  at  the  head  of  the  canal,  the  river  was  turned 
that  way  ;  and  as  no  care  had  been  taken  to  reduce  it 
to  its  former  channel  by  repairing  the  breach,  all  the 
country  on  that  side  was  overflown  and  inundated  by  it. 
Tho   plan   we  pursue   prevents   our   entering  into 
details  of  tho  many  discrepancies  and  variations  in  the 
accounts  of  the  taking  of  Babylon,  and  the  death  of 
Belshazzar.     But  there  is  one  grand  centre  where  all 
narratives  meet  in  wonderful  harmony,  in  the  fulfilment 
of  prophecy. 

Every  circumstance  of  the  ruin  of  this  "hammer  of 
the  whole  earth,"  is  set  forth  in  a  minute  and  vivid 
portraiture  in  the  burdens  of  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah. 
Its  siege  by  an  army  of  Modes,  Elamites,  and  Arme- 
nians;  the  seizure  of  tho   fords   of  the  river-    the 


BABYLON. 


27 


confusion  that  prevailed  tl.ronghout  the  city,  and  the 
disheartening  fear  that  paralyzed  the  stoutest  hearts, 
are  all  detailed  as  though  passing  before  the  eyes  of 
he  inspired  heralds  of  the  divine  ^rath.     Like  the 
J  roy  of  the  poets,  it  was  to  be  taken  when  drunkenness 
and  not   had  plunged  its  chieftains  into  that  sleep, 
from  which  they  were  to  awake  only  to  a  consciousness 
more  horrible  than   the  "bitterness  of  death"  through 
which  they  had  passed.     Nature  itself  seemed  to  be 
urned  from   her  wonted  course;   and  the  river,  which 
had  watered  the  gardens  of  her  glory,  was  to  retire 
from  Its  proper  limits,  and  open  a  dry  pathway  for  the 
destroyer      Wuh  Babylon  it  was  to  be  as  when  God 
overthrew  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.     "  It  shall  never  be 
inhabited,  neither  shall  it  be  dwelt  in  from  generation 
0  generation  :  neither  shall  the  Arabian  pi^ch  tents 
here;    neither  shall   the   shepherds  make   their   fold 
there  :   but  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  shall   lie  there  • 
and  their  houses  shall  be  full  of  doleful  creatures;  and 
owls  shall  dwell  there,  and  satyrs  shall  dance  there.  And 
he  wild  beasts  of  the  islands  shall  cry  in  their  desolate 
houses,  and  dragons  in  their  pleasant  places,  and  her 

Such  is  a  brief  sketch  of  Babylon  in  its  greatness- 
.uch  were  the  vices  that  brought  about,  and' such  U^ 
redictions  that  announced,  its  ruin.     Like  Rome 
fell  through  Its  own  magnitude,  its  forgetfulness  of  he 
proper  nobility  of  man,  and  its  deadly  pride 

No  longer  an  empire,  it  became  a  tributary  province 
of  the  new  power  of  the  Persians.  Unavailfng  revol  s 
against  the  Persian  yoke   brought  down  frefh    udg 


„ 


28 


GREAt  CITias   OF  THE   WORLD. 


ments,  and  Cyrus,  Darius,  and  Xerxes  gradually 
stripped  it  of  its  walls,  its  towers,  and  its  palaces. 
Alexander  took  it  from  the  Persians  and  entered  it  in 
triumph,  made  it  the  scene  of  luxurious  revels,  and 
the  metropolis  of  his  Eastern  empire ;  but  could  not 
avert  its  predestined  doAvnfall.  Strabo,  writing  in  the 
reign  of  Augustus,  declares  that  Babylon  had  then 
become  so  desolate,  that  it  might  be  called  a  vast 
desert.  In  the  time  of  Pausanias,  fragments  of  the 
walls  alone  bore  witness  of  its  former  existence  ;  and 
subsequently,  a  miserable  village  occupies  the  site  of 
this  proudest  city  of  the  earth. 

It  remains  for  us  to  give  some  idea  of  Babylon  in 
its  present  condition,  or  rather  to  notice  some  of  the 
ruins  supposed  to  bear  witness  to  her  doAvnfal]. 

We  must  first,  however,  observe,  that  the  actual  site 
of  Babylon  is  very  uncertain,  and  that  there  is  con- 
siderable reason  to  believe  that  it  has  changed  with 
the  fortunes  of  its  people.  To  Austin  Henry  Layard, 
the  enthusiastic  and  enlightened  scholar,  and  his  well- 
directed  researches,  amidst  all  the  disadvantages 
opposed  by  a  tasteless  and  feeble-minded  government, 
we  owe  almost  all  our  real  knowledge  on  the  subject, 
and  for  his  descriptions  we  may  fairly  claim  a  hearing, 
before  we  notice  any  previous  descriptions. 

After  noticing  the  variety  in  the  forms  of  cuneiform 
writing  found  in  the  various  ruins,  Layard  proceeds  as 
follows  : — "  The  inscriptions  in  the  Babylonian  charac- 
ter, from  the  ruins  near  Hillah,  can  be  shown  to  belong 
to  the  time  of  Nebucliadnczzar,  and  consequently  to  a 
period  subsequent  to  the  fall  of  the  Assyrian  Empire. 
The  name  of  that  monarch  is  found  upon  them  all. 


f 


nAHYLON. 


81 


Amongst  tho  ruins  of  NifTcr,  to  the  south  of  Ilillah, 
Major  Rawlinson  has  discovered  other  inscriptions  with 
a  new  royal  name  ;  but  it  is  uncertain  to  what  period 
thoy  belong.     That  eminent  antiquary,  who   was,   I 
believe,  tho  first  to  identify  tho  name  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar on  the  bricks  and  tablets  from  tho  ruins  so  long 
believed  to  bo  those  of  tho  scriptural  Babylon,  inclines 
to  the  opinion  that  Niffer  may  rcpresent'its  true  site, 
whilst  the  mounds  around  Hillah  arc  the  remains  of  a 
more  recent  city  of  the   same  name.     Nor   is   this 
supposition  of  the  existence  of  two  Babylons  inconsis- 
tent  with   history  and  Eastern  customs.     Nebuchad- 
nezzar declares   that   he  built  the  city.    After   the 
successful  revolt  of  the  Babylonians,  and  tho  fall  of 
Nineveh,  it  is  not  improbable  that   Nebuchadnezzar, 
on  founding  a   new  empire,  which  was  to  rival   tho 
Assyrian  in  power  and  extent,  should  have  desired  to 
build  a   capital  worthy  of  it.     During  the  Assyrian 
supremacy,  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Chaldeans  may 
have  partly  fallen  into  ruins;  and  it  was  perfectly  in 
accordance  with  the   customs   and  prejudices   of  an 
Eastern  people  to  choose  for  rebuilding  it  a  new  site 
not  far  removed  from  the  old.     Babylon  affords  more 
than  one  instance  of  this  very  custom.     The  successor 
of  Alexander  the  Great  in  the  empire  of  the  East, 
seeking  for  a  capital,  did  not  rebuild  Babylon,  which 
had  again  fallen  into  decay.     He  chose  a  site  near  it 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tigris,  founded  a  new  city,  calling 
It  Seleucia,  after  his  own  name,  and  partly  constructing 
It  of  materials  taken  from  Babylon.     Subsequently, 
when  another  change  of  dynaaty  took  place,  the  Par- 
thian succeeding  to  the  Greek,  the  city  was  again 


1\ 


82 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


removed,  and  Ctcsiplion  rose  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  After  the  Persians  came  the  Arabs,  who, 
desiring  to  found  a  capital  for  their  new  empire,  chose 
a  different  site  ;  still,  however,  remaining  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  old.  Changing  the  locality  more  thnn  once, 
they  at  length  built  the  celebrated  city  of  Bitghdad, 
which  actually  represents  the  ancient  Babylon." 

The  words  of  Layard  cannot  fail  to  carry  authority 
with  them,  supported  as  they  are  by  the  constant  prac- 
tice of  eastern  nations.  But  till  mure  ia  known  of 
these  very  ruins — till  a  clearer  line  of  demarcation  can 
be  discovered  between  the  histories  of  these  neighbour- 
ing nations,  in  their  independent  or  their  tributary 
state,  wo  cannot  readily  depend  upon  analogy  as  our 
guide.  Tlie  histories  of  Babylon  and  Nineveh  are  so 
curiously  interwoven  with  each  other  that  it  is  diificult 
to  say  where  the  one  ends  and  the  other  begins.  Fur- 
thermore, our  surveys  of  Babylon  are  far  less  perfect 
than  those  which  ]?otta  and  Layard  have  carried  out 
at  Khorsabad,  Mosul,  and  Nimroud.  Nothing  but  an 
eqnal  amount  of  investigation  can  justify  anything  like 
a  parallel  view  of  their  history  and  antiquities.  With- 
out, therefore,  denying  the  truth  of  this  great  anti- 
quarian's statements,  vfe  will  content  ourselves  with 
Rich's  description  of  the  great  mounds  of  ruins  which 
occupy  the  surrounding  neighbourhood.  In  reading 
these  particulars,  I  would  wish  the  reader  to  observe 
three  things  :  first,  that  whatever  doubts  may  exist 
as  to  the  precise  era  of  the  buildings  whose  fragments 
are  thus  disentombed,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
Babylon  of  the  Scriptures  is  to  be  sought  for  among 
them ;  secondly,  that  although  the  Bira  Nimroud  ha^ 


2 

en 

o 

•=3 


-1 

o 


en 

!«! 

W 
o 
C3 

e 


tiU 


rr= 


BABYLON. 


85 


even  by  recent  scholars,  been  regarde«l  as  occupying 
the  site  of  the  ancient  temple  of  Belus,  or  the  more 
ancient  tower  of  Babel,  Layard's  scepticism  on  the 
subject  is,  at  least,  entitled  to  investigation;  and, 
thirdly,  that  the  remains  of  walls  found  in  these  dis- 
tricts "do  not  enclose  the  space  attributed  to  either 
Babylon  or  Nineveh,  but  form  quadrangular  enclosures 
of  more  moderate  dimensions,  which  appear  to  have 
been  attached  to  the  royal  dwellings,  or  were,  perhaps, 
intended  as  places  of  refuge  in  case  of  a  siege." 

Rich,  many  years  the  Resident  of  the  East  India 
Company  at  Baghdad,  was  a  man  "  w!  ose  enterprise, 
industry,  extensive  and  varied  learning,  and  rare 
influence  over  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  acquired 
as  much  by  character  as  position,  eminently  qualified 
for  the  task."  We  may  add  that  a  deep  sense  of  the 
marvellous  operations  of  the  Almighty,  working  out 
his  judgments  in  accordance  with  his  forewarnings, 
through  the  voices  of  prophets,  gives  a  weight  and 
solemnity  to  the  tone  of  Rich's  speculations,  which 
cannot  too  much  excite  our  admiration.  We  present 
our  readers  with  the  following  extracts  :— 

"  The  ruins  of  Babylon  may  be  said  almost  to  com- 
mence from  Mohawil,  a  very  indifferent  khan,  close  to 
which  is  a  large  canal,  with  a  bridge  over  it;  the  whole 
country  between  it  and  Hillah  exhibiting,  at  intervals, 
traces  of  building,  in  which  are  discoverable  burnt  and 
unburnt  bricks  and  bitumen.  Three  mounds,  in  parti- 
cular, attract  attention  from  their  magnitude.  The 
district  called  by  the  natives  El-Aredh  Babel  extends 
on  both  sides  of  the  Euphrates.  The  ruins  of  the 
eastern  quarter  of  Babylon,  commence  about  two  miles 


L 


i 


i 


~-^ 


86 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


abore  Hillah,  and  consist  of  two  largo  masses  or  mounda, 
connected  with,  and  lying  north  and  south  of  each  other; 
and  several  smaller  ones  which  cross  the  plain  at  dif- 
ferent intervals.     At  the  northern  termination  of  tho 
plain  is  Pietro  dclla  Vullc's  ruin ;  from  tho  south-east  (to 
which  it  evidently  once  joined,  being  only  obliterated 
there  by  two  canals)  proceeds  a  narrow  ridge  or  mound 
of  earth,  wearing  the  appearance  of  having  been  a  boun- 
dary wall.  This  ridgo  forma  a  kind  of  circular  enclosure, 
and  joins  the  south-east  point  of  the  most  southerly 
of  the  two  grand  masses.     The  whole  area,  enclosed  by 
the  boundary  on  the  east  and  south,  and  the  river  on 
tho  west,  is  two  miles  and  six  hundred  yards  from  cast 
to  west— as  much  from  Pietro  della  Valle's  ruin  to  tho 
southern  part  of  tho  boundary,  or  two  miles  and  one 
thousand  yards  to  the  most  southernly  mound  of  all. 
The  first  grand  mass  of  ruins  south,  is  one  thousand 
one  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  eight  hundred  in  the 
greatest  breadth.  The  most  elevated  part  may  be  about 
fifty  or  sixty  feet  above  tho  level  of  the  plain ;  and  it 
has  been  dug  into  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  bricks. 
On  the  north,  is  a  valley  of  five  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
in  length,  the  area  of  which  is  covered  with  tussocks  of 
rank  grass,  and  crossed  by  a  line  of  ruins  of  very  little 
elevation.    To  this  succeeds  the  second  grand  heap  of 
ruins,  the  shape  of  which  is  nearly  a  square  of  seven 
hundred  yards  length  and  breadth.     This  is  the  place 
where  Beauchamp  had  previously  made  his  observa- 
tion ;  and  it  certainly  is  the  most  interesting  part  of 
the  ruins  of  Babylon,    Every  vestige  discoverable  in 
it  declares  it  to  have  been  composed  of  buildings  far 
superior  to  all  the  rest  which  have  left  traces  in  the 


L 


BABYLON. 


«T 


e«.ern  qoart,.  :  the  brick,  arc  of  th.  fi„e,l  dtacrip. 
t.on   a„,l,  „„.„tl,..„„,Ung  this  is  .ho  grand  slorehoufo 
of  .he,„,  and  that  .!,„  grca.ose  supplies  have  boon,  and 
0  now  constantly  drawn  from  it,  tbcy  appe„  „  „"°^ 
be  abnndant.     In  all  theao  excavations  waUs  of  burnt 
tack,  la,d  ■„  limcnortar  of  a  very  good  nuality  are 
•oeni  and  naddition  .o.hesubstances'general^  ttwe" 
on  ho  surfaces  of  all  these  „,ou„ds,  wc  hero  L  frig 
ments  of  alabaster  vessels,  fine  earthenware,  marble 
und  great  cjuanti.ies  of  rarnishod  tiles,  the  gl  .i„g  and 
olourmg  of  rt.eh  are  surprisingly  fre,l,.     f„  „  i,",,"™ 
ne„  the  southern   par,,  I  f„„„J  „  .,p„,„,„.„,  „ J""' 
ea,tl,enware,wh,cb  had  been  broken  in  digging,  and 

:ir.„'uei::'  ™"'"  '""■""" '"""  "'■'""  i-"-™'  '-"h 

"  To  be  n,ore  particular   in  my  description  of  this 
mound  ,_not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  from  i  . 
northern  extremity  is  a  ravine,  hollowed    „    bThol 
«ho  d,g  for  br.eks,  in  length  about  a  hundred  yards 
and  ...rty  fee,  wide  by  forty  or  fifty  feet    leep'    On 
one  s,  e  of  ,t,  a  few  yards  of  wall  remain  standt,  the 
ace  of  wh,eb  .s  very  clear  and  perfect,  and  it  appea 
to  have  been  the  front  „f  s„„,e  building.    The  onnosit' 
.de  ,s  so  confused  a  mass  of  rubbish!  that  it  To„ Id 

'%.     Lnde,    the  foundations  of  the  southern   end   an 
openmg  ,s  made,  which  discovers  a  subterranea     pas" 
»«e,  fioored  and  walled  with  lar..e  bricks  lahl    !  T. 

s """  r"'  r  "•'"'  f'--  »"^-^'  ™   "d 

-trof^uTty^xrde^-^^^^^^^^^ 


88 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


It  is  half  full  of  brackish  watel-  (probably  rain-watef 
impregnated  with  nitre  in  filtering  through  the  ruins, 
which  are  all  very  productive  of  it ;)  and  the  workmen 
say  that  some  way  on,  it  is  high  enough  for  a  horse- 
man to  pass  Upright :  as  much  as  I  saw  of  it,  it  was 
near  seven  feet  in  height,  and  its  course  to  the  south. 
This  is  described  by  Beauchamp,  who  most  unaccount- 
ably imagines  it  must  have  been  part  of  the  city  wall. 
The  superstructure  over  the  passage  is  cemented  with 
bitumen ;  other  parts  of  the  ravine  are  cemented  with 
mortar,  and  the  bricks  have  all  writing  upon  them. 
The  northern  end  of  the  ravine  appears  to  have  been 
crossed  by  an  extremely  thick  wall  of  yellowish  brick, 
cemented  by  a  brilliant  white  mortar,  which  has  been 
broken  through  in  hollowing  it  out ;  and  a  little  to  the 
north  of  it,  I  discovered  what  Beauchamp  saw  imper- 
fectly, and  understood  from  the  natives  to  be  an  idol. 
I  was  told  the  same,  and  that  it  was  discovered  by  an 
old  Arab  in  digging ;  but  that,  not  knowing  Avhat  to  do 
with  it,  he  covered  it  up  again.  On  sending  for  the  old 
man,  I  set  a  number  of  men  to  work,  who  after  a  day's 
hard  labour,  laid  open  enough  of  the  statue  to  show 
that  it  was  a  lion  of  colossal  dimensions,  standing  upon 
a  pedestal  of  a  coarse  kind  of  gray  granite,  and  of  rude 
workmanship ;  in  the  mouth  Avas  a  circular  aperture, 
into  which  a  man  might  introduce  his  fist.  A  little  to 
the  west  of  the  ravine,  is  the  next  remarkable  object, 
called  by  the  natives  the  Kasr,  or  Palace,  by  which  ap- 
pellation I  shall  designate  the  whole  mass.  It  is  a  very 
remarkable  ruin,  which  being  uncovered,  and  in  part  de- 
tached from  the  rubbish,  is  visible  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, but  so  surprisingly  fresh  in  its  appearance,  that 


-a 
9i 


m 


men    of  .  ^h   a  tennc.ty,  that   those  whose  business  it 
li'ffi    I   ';'"  "^  '■"'■'^'"•^'  ^"  ''^^^^""t  «f  the  extreme 
valla  a,eboken,a„d  man j  have  been  much  h.Vher 
nea.Ij  to   the   foundations,    but    the   internal   spaces 

pa.  ts  almos    to  tlioir  summits.     One  part  of  the  walls 
as  been  sp   t  into  three  parts,  and  overthrown  as  ift 
an  e  rthquake  ;  some  detached  walls  of  the  same  kind 

"ecte,.  w,.l,  it.  There  .-o  .„,„e  Mow,  „Ze  " 
winch  seve,.l   persons    have  lost    thei,-    ,  t 

■at  „„  one  w,U  now  venture  into  then,,  .„d  ihei,'  er 
ances   have  become  ehoked  up  ni.h  rubbish      N 

""-■u.ni,.  he»p  of  rubbish,  t'e  ilea  ofrtieh      I 

tC'S:::" :;'  rr  •''"™"'°"  -^ '"  -"^^^ 
;xite;itr;i-h-''tr 

"™  """'  "•^--  't^y  -  '.-.ported  by  boats  to  Hi,! 


40 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


lahj  and  a  little  to  the  noi-th-north-east  of  it  is  the 
famous  tree,  which  the  natives  call  Athal&,  and  main- 
tain to  have  been  flourishing  in  ancient  Babylon,  from 
the  destruction  of  which  they  say  God   purposely  pre- 
served  it,  that  it  might  afford  Ali  a  convenient  place  to 
tie  up  his  horse  after  the  battle  of  Hillah !    It  stands 
on  a  kind  of  ridge,  and  nothing  more  than  one  side  of 
Its  trunk  remains  (by  which  it  appears  to  have  beccn 
of  considerable  girth;)  yet  the  branches  at  the  top  are 
still  perfectly  verdant,  and  gently  waving  in  the  wind, 
produce  a  melancholy  rustling  sound.     It  is  an  ever' 
green,  something  resembling  the  lignum  vitve,  and  of  a 
kind,  I  believe,  not  common  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
though  I  am  told  there  is  a  tree  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion at  Bassora.     All  the  people  of  the  country  assert 
that  It  is  extremely  dangerous  to  approach  this  mound 
after  nightfall,  on   account  of  the  miiltitude  of  evil 
spirits  by  which  it  is  haunted. 

"A  mile  to  the  noth  of  the  Kasr,  and  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  from  the  river  bank,  is  the  last  ruin  of 
this  series,  described  by  Pietro  della  Valle.    The  natives 
call  it  Mukallibfe  (or,  according  to  the  vulgar  Arab  pro- 
nunciation   of  these  parts,  Mujelib^,   meaning  'over- 
turned.')     It  is  of  an   oblong   shape,  irregular  in  its 
height,  and  the  measurement  of  its  sides,  which  face 
the  cardinal  points;  the  northern  side  being  two  hun- 
drcd  yards  in   length,  the  southern  two  hundred  and 
nineteen;  the  eastern   one    hundred    and  eighty-two, 
and  the  western  one  hundred  and  thirty-six;  the  eleva' 
tion  of  the  south-east  or  highest  angle,  one  hundred  and 
forty-one  feet.     Near  the  summit  west,  appears  a  low 
wall,  built  of  unburnt  bricks,  mixed  up  with  chopped 


i!f^ 


BABYLOX. 


41 


^  raw  or  reeds,  and  cemented  uith  clay  morfar  of  groat 
thu^kness,  having  between  each  layer,  a  layer  of  reed.. 
All   are  worn  znto  furrows  by  the  weather;  in  son.e 
places  of  great  depth.     The  summit  is  covered  wi  h 
-PS   of  rubbish;    whole   bricks  with  inscriptions 
them   arc  here   and   there    discovered;    the  whole  is 
covered  w,th  mnu.erable  fragments  of  pottery,  br  ck 
b  tumen    pebbles,  vitrefied   brick,  or  scoria,  and  even 
shells,  bus  of  glass  and   mother-of-pearl.     There   a!e 
many  dens  of  wild  beasts  in  various  parts,  in  one    f 
-h.ch  I  found  the  bones  of  sheep,  anJoth;  anima  3 
and  percen-e<^  a  strong  smell  like  that  of  a  lion.    I  al  J 
found  quant.ies  of  porcupine  quills,  and  in  most  cavi- 
ties are  numbers  of  bats  and   owls.     It  is   a  curious 
comc.dence  that  I  here  first  heard  the  oriental  accou:: 
ot  ^atyis.     T  had  always  imagined  the  belief  of  their 

wJw^rr  r'T'  '^ ''' '''''-'  '^^  ^  ^'-^^-  -'- 

Zr      T       '"  ^  '"''"'"^'^  *^'^  ^-"^"^  "^-^"tioned  by 
accident,  that  m  this  desert  an  animal  is  found  resem^ 
b  -g  a  man  from  the  head  to  the  waist,  but  havinrthe 
thighs  and  egs  of  a  sheep  or  goat;  h^  said  al  o,'t  a 
the  Arabs  hunt  it  with  dogs,  and  eat  the  lower  ^arts 
abstaining  from  the  upper,  on  account  of  their  res  m' 
blance  to  those  of  the  human  species      'But  tb?     u 
beast  of  the  desert  shall  be  there  T^.J.      T  T^^ 

be  full  nf  rlnlor  1         !  ^  ^^^"'  ^0"ses  shall 

'  ,       "^  '^°^^^'-'^  creatures  ;   and  owls  shall  dwell  there 
and  satyrs  shall  dance  there.'  Isa.  xiii.  21  '  ' 

We  must  now  bid  farewell  to  the  ruins  of  Babvlon 
amenting  that  our  historical  information  re  peft  nl  M  i 
days  of  her  greatness  is  so  limited      But  v!  ,         " 


42 


QRKAT  CITirOS  OP  THE  WOKLI) 


cui-Hc  c.f  i.lelatry  imprints  its  iron  footsteps  on  every 
spot  that  hears  witness  to  their  efforts.  Sabaisur  had 
perverted  their  minds,  vanity  and  cruelty  had  com- 
pU'ted  the  vvorlv  that  an  idolatrous  casting  off  of  Cod 
had  begun  ;  and  in  the  doubtful  obscurity  which  shrouds 
the  remains  of  this  doomed  city,  we  read  a  gloomy  sa- 
tire on  the  helplessneas  of  Man  when  he  has  forgotten 
his  Maker. 


ABAB  IROAMPltXIIT. 


Lr::: 


ps  on  every 
abaisur  had 
7   had  com- 

;  off  of  Cod 

lich  shrouds 

gloomy  su- 

is  forgotten 


HIAB  or  A  C01088AL  nOORE  Of  AN  4a„BM«  .„„„„„, 

NINEVEH. 

EFORE  I  present  my  reader 

'  ^'^^^  a  sketch  of  the  great 

discoveries  which  have  al- 

ready  associated  the  name 

ofLayardwith  these  pages 

I  shall  first  call  attention 

to    the    scriptural    notices 

whence  our  earliest  know 

tl.e  auperstU,o„s   remen,b.a„ce  of  tho  Arabs  T'Z 


i 


'11  (iin;.\r  citikm  ov  tiii';  \V(iiii,i». 

tiny,  is  (»f  i\w  Htiiiio  j'.roluiliilily  »h  tlml  wIik-Ii  iissi^iiH 
tlii>  ioiiii(liiti(iii  oi'  Uiitiylon  to  IIcIum;  wliilo  NiiniM 
appcarH  in  tli(>  miiiii(>  liglit.  us  NcIiiicIiikIiic/./.iii-,  mm  (Iio 
priiioo  lo  wliom  I  lid  primilivo  cily  uwimI  '\\h  cliirr  power 
iiiul  luti^iiilicciioo.  Ah  Itnliylon  wiis  llie  cnpital  of  llio 
('liiiltl«>aii,  MO  wa8  Niiiovoh  of  (ho  A,Hnyriim  ciiipiic. 
And  IIS  NiiM'voh  vIviiIUmI  Itnlivloii  in  MplciKioin-  nnd 
renown,  no  ditl  it  vio  with  il  in  wickciliiess,  ciiiiilatc  its 
rontoinpt  ol"  (iod,  provoKo  tli(>  sumo  fi'tiil'iil  jnd),:iii('iit, 
iind  leave  ita  liiuied  luinH  as  nieinoriiils  of  its  ciinie  nnd 
piinisliinent. 

As  1  wriio  tlio  history  ol'  Nineveh  iis  a  ell  v,  and  imt. 
in  its  rehition  to  the  Assyiian  empire,  I  may  lie 
e\eiised  enlei'injj  into  the  i'Iin»noloj';ieal  dillienllies  with 
Mliieh,  like  that  of  the  otht>r  half  inylhieul  foumhTM  (d" 
f^reat  cities,  the  hi.^tory  of  Ninas  is  heset.*  At  whalevei- 
era  wo  lix  his  rt>ii;n,  and  whether  we  rei^ard  him  as 
rounder  of  a  new,  or  estahlishor  of  an  old  empire,  wo 
recognise  in  the  elVeets  of  !iis  inllneneo  the  same  stiMii 
despotism,  the  same  hist  after  coinpiost,  and  the  same 
nnconlrollable  iletennination,  whieh  is  tho  invariahle 
oharaotoristio  of  thoso  who  work  groat  clmngoa  in  tho 
history  of  man. 

Of  tho  kings  who  succeeded  him  in  tho  Assyrian 
empire  we  know  litth',  as  far  as  Niuevoh  is  concerned. 

•     •    Tho   lollowiu);  <lnti>!i,  liowovor,  given  l)y  Clinton,  nnd  mldpliul  liy 
Jt  .\;\i'ili  p.  '^l',  will  .loiilxlos!)  1)0  usol'iil  to  tho  reader: — 

TItRS        n.  (I. 

Nimis 2182 

Assvrini)  Mi>nnrohy  l.'lOrt  ycnrs  boforo  tlic  Kmpiro  .    .     .  fiTT)  ...  11)12 

J>uiii.it  llio  Kin|iiro,  2t  UinM 62(»  ...  12;t7 

^S!ll^ll>nl\^l:^lll!l,  n.  ^•.  STfi.) 
Attor  tlio  Kuipiro,  6  l(ings 105...    711 

i:iOlJ 
Cnpturo  of  Xinovoh fiOfl 


Il    ilnsi^'^IlM 

il(t    NiiiiiH 

III',   lis     |||(< 

lid'  piiwcr 
till  (if  111*) 

I  ('iii|ili'(<. 
(lour  1111*1 
iinilati'  ils 
iniljriiii'iil, 
ci'iiiit'  iiml 

',  iiimI  iioI, 

limy    li(' 

lilies  willi 

lluli'lS   (if 

wliiilcvcr 

II  llilll     IIS 

iipirc,  W(^ 
mil'  stt>rn 

llio  SlIlllO 
iiviiiiiil)lo 
08  in  tlio 

Assy  via  11 
Diiocnu'd. 

nihiptud  li.v 


II.  0. 

2IH2 
IIII2 
12:17 

in 

606 


NINKVKII.  45 

Hiif  tho  works  wliich  rocont,  difloovorioN  Imvo  brou^rht 
I"  li^lil,  (in,  Hullln'riit,  to  Hhow  timl;  f.ho  improvornont 
iiihI  iiicnMisd  ..f  Niimvitc^  K'-«''itii(«Hrt  wiw  bnui-lit  ulHiiit 

Iiy(lili;'ivii(sovcn.ii.riH,,i(  jM.ri..(lHMiornorlcMi(lislaiit,.* 
1"  iIh-  liiiK-uf  ilu,  prnpluir,  .I.mal,,  jt,  l„i(]  Htf,,ii,„..|  ,1 
i>ia,!.'iiilinlii  wlii.-li   iH  iiptlj   illiislnik-.l   l,y   thn  (jiiainf, 
'''•^'■'T''"'"'*"  'I"'  I'lNiplu-t,:  "N.nv  Niiiiu-oli  was  ni. 
i'xcrc.lii.u-  „,v,,(,  <.iij  ,,f  ,1,,,,.,,  ,|,^y^>  j,, I, nicy.     Afxl 
''"I'.'ili   l.t'L^an  I..  (>nt*>i-  int..  (i,,,  cjij  a  ("lay's  ji.iinicy." 
its  (li.ii,.ii,i,.i,;,  ac(!..nliMir  to  p:i,_r;i„  aiit.lioiM ty',  wcM'o  a 
I'liiiiliv.l  ai.:l  lifiy  riirl.Mi-s  ..11  Uio  tw<i  loM-cst.sidcw,  and 
"iii'.'iy  ,ui  III,.  ,,|,,„,sih.,  ihcH-inam  In-in^'  i'oiir  liiindn-d 
Hiid  v\.^\ny  li,rl„n;^M,  Of  sixty  niiKin.     In  mspoct  to  its 
i"r"l'ifioii  I  \u>  laii.!.-ua,i,'(;  in  Scnptiins  loavijs  ns  in  doubt 
"l'li»ii,-li   ilu3"inon^  tluui  six  scoro  tlioiisand   pcrHons 
•I'i'tn.Ml.l  iK.tdisconi  Ix'twccn  llicir  nVJit  hand  and  thoir 
'""■   li.'Mid,"  sccia   moat   naturally  to  rolV-r  to  llio  diil- 
<''■•;>'  *M'ly,t  piTsiipposin-,  according'  to  a  (^o.nnion  calcu- 
'•'t'l'ii,  an  avcni-.-  population  of  six  hiindrod  thousand 
"'"'••''•"^••ts.      It  must  however,  bo  recollected  that  the 
'lin.ciismns  of  an  eastern  eity  are  by  no  mcsans  a  guide 
to  (l(-tenninnig  the  amount  of  its  popnlation.      Lai^e 
<T<->'  «l.!ic(^3,  pleasure  grounds,  and  gardens,  are  eon- 
Htantly  found   within  the  walls,  while  the  seclusion   in 

»  Soe  I,„y„nl,  V.  ii.  ,,.  21!.!,„,„1  elHcwhen..     U„  , ; ,,  ,,„,,  „,„ 

w-v  at  lon.t  («•,., lislinot  Assvrian  ,l.vna«.i...s,  ",1,0  nr.s,  o.„n,,u.,..i„.  v.iil, 
Nmu,s  an.  ..mlm«  with  tho  Sanlunnpalu,  ..f  |.i«,„,v,  an.l  ,1,.,  ^^.-on,! 
n.,  l...l,n«  the  lator  Uin«.  .„..,ti,.nc,.  i:,  ...,.ipu„o.  ..,.  t.i  „...  ,i.t.u..i„„"  ' 
^iuo^W.  l.y  th,-  ..0M.!,u„.,I  nnuU;  of  1-orsia  ai,.l  lUihyUnu" 

t  'lin-s  i.s  .cnewhnt  cntirmua  l.y  tho  a,I.liti.,„  „f  .-an,!  „.,„.|.  .attlo  " 
f.M-  tlu.  .luldfo,,,  wvc-H.  cattlo.  and  ro...!.,  are  ..omtnonlv  rooko,,..,!  t.^otlu'r 
in  HU..I.  onuMu.mtiu,,..,  iu.lopo.ulontly  of, he  men.    Thu.  i„  Cu..s.  h  U   i   2 


-I 


4d 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


Jhich  the  female  sex  are  kept,  renders  a  separate 
dwelling  necessary  for  each  family. 

This  "great  city,"  as  it  is  repeatedly  styled  by  the 
prophet,  had  m  his  days  risen  to  a  pitch  of  luxury  and 
wickedness,  which  had  "come  up  before  God."     But 
the  mercy  shewn  in  the  sending  of  Jonah,  and  the 
ready  reception  with  which  that  prophet  met,  are  facts 
that  seem  to  prove  a  greater  predisposition  to  repent- 
ance, and  a  less  hardened  proneness  to  idolatry,  than 
the  haughty  Babylonians  had  displayed.    A  solemn  fast 
was  proclaimed,  and  the  humbled  Ninevitcs  sought  their 
peace  with  God-prostrate  in   sackcloth   and  ashes. 
And  God  saw  their  work,  that  they  turned  from  their 
evi    way;  and  God  repented  of  the  evil  that  he  had 
said  that  he  would  do  unto  them  ;  and  he  did  it  not  " 

But    although  the  Divine  vengeance  was  delayed, 
and  although  the  people  for  a  time  hearkened  to  the 
prophet  who  had  been  sent  to  awaken  them  from  their 
slumber  of  sinfulness,  the  besetting  sin  of  idolatry,  with 
Its  accompanying  host  of  evil  pleasures,  licentiousness 
and  contempt  of  the  true  God,  again  gained  ground. 
To  what  extent  their  first  defeat  under  Arbaces  and 
Be  esis  may  have  humbled  their  haughtiness,  we  cannot 
telL     J3ut  that  the  second  siege  under  Cyaxares,  kinr. 
of  Persia  and  Media,  and  Nabopolassar,  king  of  Baby! 
Ion,  proved  the  decisive  blow  to  all  their  greatness   is 
the  concurrent  statement  of  history.     So  decisive  was 
the   ruin,   that   "although   the  earlier  prophets   fre- 
quently allude  to  the  great  city,  and  to  its  wealth  and 
power  before  its  fall,  the  latter  never  mention  its  name 
except  m  allusion  to  the  heap  of  ruins-to  the  desolation 


a  separate 

^led  by  the 
luxury  and 
od."     But 
1,  and   the 
t,  are  facts 
to  repent- 
atry,  than 
olemn  fast 
ught  their 
nd   ashes, 
from  their 
It  he  had 
it  not." 
delayed, 
ed  to  the 
rem  their 
itry,  -with 
;iousness, 
ground, 
^ces  and 
'e  cannot 
fes,  king 
of  Baby- 
ttness,  is 
sive  was 
lets    fre- 
ilth  and 
ts  name, 
isolation 


t   r 


1 

I 


NINEVEH. 


47 


which  -m  spread  over  the  site  of  a  once  great  city  as 
a  special  instance  of  the  Divine  vengeance  "  ^' 

V\  hen  Xenophon,  about  400  b.  c,  passed  by  the  spot 
mh.  retreat  with  the  ten  thousand  Greeks,  so  u  terly 
mned  was  Nmeveh,  that  he  knew  not  that  the  Jul 
0   earth  and  rubbish  he  saw  and  described  covered   h 

rwrmtl      ;r  ^"^  ''^  P^^^«'  Herodotus 
know  as  httlo  of  the  existence  even  of  its  ruins.     At  • 

ater  per.d,  the  witty  Lucian  bears  witnes    to  the 
absence  of  any  vestiges  of  the  doomed  citv. 

lo  give  any  id.a  of  the  wealth  and  po;er  which  th-^ 
Ninev;tes  must  have  possessed,  I  must  rder  my   etl  t 
to    he  sculptures,  which  the  untired,  though  ill-sup 
ported  .eal  of  Layard  has  brought  to  light.^  Ir    h  se 
the  hab,ts,  arts  and  sciences,  costumes,  a^.d  life  o    tl  e 

to  wh ir'tl       f^  '"'^  ^r''''''  ''  ''  '^''  «^-''^-l  "f  «rt 

ma       of      r  ^       ''  *'"^  "^"^  '^''^  unquestionable 
marks  of  a  high  progress  of  civilization,  and  a  know 
ledge  not  only  of  the  necessary  arts  of  1  f o  L      T.' 
refinements  and  cultivation.     The    uxuJ  nl  l\      ''' 
the  proud  processions,  the  cererll™    J^^^^^^^^^^ 

ot   JV.raroud.     By   their   colossal   dimensions   we   are 

hose".  ;"?r*^'V'"  ^^"^^^  ^^  *^«  J-"'^  -<I  g  "01 
^hos    walls    hey  hned.     The  immense  wingfd  b  I 

and  hons  with  their  human  visages,  resembl  nV 
anomalous    figures   discovered   at   PersenolTs    1     i 
cherubim  forms  pictured  in  the  Pvf..       -^      '         ^''° 
kiel  formed  the^tate  y    ntranceTtfthr"  f  ^"■ 
and  aptly  symbolized  the  might  of  th.^  ^Partments, 
P-ed  and  repassed,  day  aftlfl;:::;:^^^^^^^^^ 


'i 


1 


S   I 


I 


48 


aREAT  crrifis  oe  tub  would. 


WIKOED  U0»  FROM  TBI  KUINS  Of  NIHKVEH. 

phernalia  of  oriental  splendour.     Vast  sphinxes,  as  in 
the  temples,  and  along  the  colonnades  of  Egypt,  and 
hawk-headed  human  figures,  served  to  typify  the  supre- 
macy of  royalty,  and  added  a  grotesque  variety  to  the^ 
solemn  statelincss  of  the  other  groups.     Crowds  of 
smooth-chinned  eunuchs,  of  servants  laden  with  daintier 
or  with  the  spoils  of  the  vanquished,  hunting-parties' 
fully   equipped,    the   chieftain,    with   full-drawn   how 
hurrying  along  in  his  chariot  to  the  scene  of  war  or 
followed  by  a  train  of  captives ;  these  were  the  subjects 
which  adorned  the  alabastcr-lined  walls  of  the  palaces 
at  Nmcveh.     Nor  were  the  charms  of  painting  and 
gilding  wanting.     The  images  <«  portrayed  with  vermil- 
hon"  "exceeding  in  dyed  attire  upon  their  heads,"  are 
recalled  to  our  minds  by  the  traces  of  colour  every- 
where  visible  on  these  sculptures. 


1XCS,  a3  in 
^gypt,  and 
the  supre- 
ictj  to  the' 
Crowds  of 
h  dainties, 
ng-parties 
awn   bow, 
)f  war,  or 
0  subjects 
le  palaces 
iting  and 
th  vermil- 
iads,"  are 
\xr  every- 


1 

I 


I  i 


NINEVEH. 


63 


Among  the  many  details  of  the  ordinary  matters  of 
common  i.fe  with  which  those  fragments  have  made  us 
acquainted,    «o    find    representations    of    the   pulley 
arranged  in  the  san>e  manner  as  our  o,vn,  and  the  opo^ 
ration  of  moving  a  block  of  stone  on  a  cart  .Irawn  by 
men      The  beautifully  flowing  robes,  edged  with  fringes 
and  tasse  8,  and  elaborately  embroidered,  confirm  our 
ulcas  of  the  proverbial  magnificence  of  the  "Assyrian 
garments,  'and  prove  that  the  Ninevites  rivalled  their 
neighbours  in  taste  for  dress,  both  in  the  costliness  of 
t^^e  materials,  and  the  delicacy  of  the  workmanship, 
^ooklaces,  armlets,  bracelets,  and  ear-rings  of  various 
design,  are  profusely  displayed,  and  even  the  arms  are 
nchly  decorated.     The  umbrella  or  parasol,  and  the 
Chair  of  state,  the  usual  accompaniments  of  oriental 
royalty,  both  closely  resemble  those  of  modern  r.inrs 
Ihe  minute  and  neat  tnmming  and  arrangement  of 
beard,  and   the   dyed   eyebrows,  bear  witness   to   the 
voluptuous  indolence  and  ,  ersunal  vanity  of  this  people 
n  tho,r  n^oments  of  ..uxation;   while  the  accurate 
details  of  armour.,  .nd  of  the  operations  of  warfare 
present  a  1.  e-likc  picture  of  the  brave-  y  and  rou.h 
energy  .diich  hud  ra'sed  them  to  the  greatess  they  so 
ill  knew  how  t<   preserve.  ^ 

I  cannot  better  close  this  description  of  Nineveh  in 
ts  greatness,  than  by  a  quotation  from  Layard's  pic- 
turesque recapitulation  of  the  disinterred  remains. 

We  descend  into  the  principal  trench,  by  a  flight 
of  steps  rude  y  cut  into  the  earth,  near  the  ;. s'tern  f!ce 
of  the  mound,  and  at  a  depth  of  about  twenty  feet   we 
suddenly  find  ourselves  between  a  pair  of  colo  sa   li'ons 
wmg.d  and  human-headed,  forming  a  portal.     bZo 


QUEAT    CITIES     )F   TlIK    WOULD. 

these  wonderful  forms,  Ezckiel,  Jonah,  and  others  of 
the  prophets  stood,  and  Sennacherib  bowed ;  even  the 
patriarch  Abraham  himself  may  possibly  have  bowed. 

'  Leaving  behind  us  a  small  chamber,  in  which  the 
Bculpturcs  are  distinguished  by  a  want  of  finish  in  tlie 
execution ;  and  considerable  rudeness  in  the  design  of 
the  ornaments,  we  issue  from  between  the  winged  lions, 
and  enter  the  remnants  of  the  principal  hall.     On  both 
sides  of  us  are  sculptured  gigantic  winged  figures ;  some 
with  the  heads  of  eagles,  others  entirely  human,  and 
carrying  mysterious  symbols  in  their  hands.     To  the 
left  is   another  portal,  also  formed  by   winged  lions. 
One  of  them  has,  however,  fallen  across  the  entrance, 
and  there  is  just  room  io  creep  beneath  it.     Beyond 
this  portal  is  a  winged  figure,  and  two  slabs  with  bas- 
reliefs  ;  but  they  have  been  so  much  injured,  that  we 
can  scarcely  trace  the  subject  upon  them.     Further  on, 
there  are  no  traces  of  wall,  although  a  deep  trench  has 
been  opened.     The  opposite  side  of  the  hall  has  also 
disappeared,  and  we  c;ily  see  a  high  wall  of  earth.     On 
examining  it  attentively,  wo  can  detect  the  marks  of 
masonry ;  and  we  soon  find  that  it  is  a  solid  structure, 
built  of  bricks  of  unbaked  clay,  now  of  the  same  colour 
as  the  surrounding  soil,  and  scarcely  to  be  distinguished 
from  it. 

"  The  slabs  of  alabaster,  fallen  from  their  original 
position,  have,  however,  been  raised :  and  we  tread  in 
the  midst  of  a  maze  of  small  bas-reliefs,  representing 
chariots,  horsemen,  battles,  and  sieges.  Perhaps  the 
workmen  are  about  to  raise  a  slab  for  the  first  time ; 
and  we  watch  with  eager  curiosity  what  new  event  of 


others  of 
even  the 
(  bowed, 
tvhich  the 
ish  in  the 
design  of 
ged  lions, 
On  both 
res ;  some 
nnan,  and 
.     To  the 
ged  lions, 
entrance, 
Beyond 
with  bas- 
d,  that  we 
urthcr  on, 
trench  has 
1  has  also 
arth.     On 
marks  of 
structure, 
ime  colour 
tinguished 

ir  original 
e  tread  in 
presenting 
jrhaps  the 
first  time ; 
V  event  of 


NlhLVEU. 


SB 


Assyrian  history,  or  what  unknown  custom  or  religious 
ceremony,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  sculpture  beneath. 
Havmg  walked  about  one  hundred  feet  amongst 
these  scattered  monuments  of  ancient  history  and  art 
we  reach  another  doorway  formed  by  gigantic  winged 
bulls  in  yellow  limestone.  One  is  still  entire,  but  its 
companion  is  fallen,  and  is  broken  into  several  pieces- 
the  great  human  head  is  at  our  feet. 

"We  pass  on  without  turning  into  the  part  of  the 
buildmg  to  which  this  portal  leads.     Beyond  it  we  see 
another  winged  figure,  holding  a  graceful  flower  in  its 
hand,  an<l  apparently  presenting  it  as  an  offering  to  the 
winged  bull.     Adjoining  this  sculpture  we  find  eight 
fine  bas-rchcfs.     There  is  the  king,  hunting  and  tri- 
umphing over  the  lion  and  the  wild  bull;  and  the  siege 
of  the  castle,  with  the  battering  ram.     We  have  now 
reached  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  find  before  us  an  ela- 
borate and  beautiful  sculpture,  representing  two  kings 
standing  beneath  the  emblem  of  the  supreme  deity,  and 
attended  by  winged  figures.     Between   them  is   the 
sacred  tree.     In  front  of  this  bas-relief  is  the  great 
stone  platform,  upon  which,  in  days  of  old,  may  have 
been  placed  the  thrones  of  the  Assyrian  monarch,  when 
he^received  his  captive  enemies,  or  his  courtiers. 

lo  the  left  of  us  is  a  fourth  outlet  from  the  hall, 
formed  by  another  pair  of  lions.  We  issue  from  be! 
tween  them,  and  find  ourselves  on  the  edge  of  a  deen 
™e,  to  the  north  of  which  rises,  high  above  us,  the 
%  pyramid.^  Figures  of  captives  bearing  objects  of 
tribute,  ear-rings,  bracelets,  and  monkeys,  may  be 
seen  on  walls  near  this  ravine ;  and  two  enormous  bulls 

6* 


I<) 


54 


GKEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD, 


and  two  winged  figures  above  fourteen  feet  high,  are 
lying  on  its  very  edge. 

"As  the  ravine  bounds  the  ruins  on  this  side,  we 
must  return  to  the  yellow  bulls.     Passing  through  the 
entrance  formed  by  them,  we  enter  a  large  chamber 
surrounded  by  eagle-headed  figures :  at  one  end  of  it  is 
a  doorway,  gaarded  by  two  priests  or  divinities,  and  in 
the  centre  another  portal  with  winged  bulls.     Which- 
ever way  we  turn,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a 
nest  of  rooms ;  and  without  an  acquaintance  with  the 
intricacies  of  the  place,  we  should  soon  lose  ourselves  in 
this  labyrinth.     The  accumulated  rubbish  being  gene- 
rally left  in  the  centre  of  the  chambers,  the  whole  exca- 
vation consists  of  a  number  of  narrow  passage-,,  panel- 
led on  one  side  with  slabs  of  alabaster;  and  shut  in  on 
the  other  by  a  high  wall  of  earth,  half-buried  in  which 
may  here  and  there  be  seen  a  broken  vase,  or  a  brick 
pamted  with  brilliant  colours.     We  may  wander  throu^rh 
these  galleries  for  an  hour  or  two,  examining  the  ma°r. 
vellous  sculptures,  or  the  numerous  inscriptions  that 
Eurround  us.     Here,  we  meet  long  rows  of  kings,  at- 
tended by  their  eunuchs  and  priests;  there,  lines  of 
winged  figures,  carrying  fir-cones  and  religious  emblems, 
and  secmmgly  in   adoration  before  the  mystic  tree 
Other  entrances,  formed  by  winged  lions  and  bulls, 
lead  us  mto  new  chambers.     Tn  every  one  of  them  are 
trcsh   objects  of  curiosity  and   surprise.     At  length 
weaned,  we  issued  from  the  buried  edifice  by  a  trench 
on  the  opposite  side  to  that  by  which  we  entered,  and 
find  ourselves  again  upon  the  naked  platform.     We 
look  around  in  vain  for  any  traces  of  the  wonderful 
remains  we  have  just  seen,  and  are  half  inclined  to 


'1 


;  high,  are 

s  side,  we 
irongh  the 
5  chamber 
(nd  of  it  is 
ies,  and  in 
.     Which- 
nidst  of  a 
!  with  the 
irselves  in 
jing  gene- 
hole  exca- 
e".,  panel- 
ihut  in  on 

in  which 
'r  a  brick 
r  through 

the  mar- 
ions  that 
fings,  at- 

lines  of 
emblems, 
itic  tree, 
id  bulls, 
them  are 
'  length, 
a.  trench 
red,  and 
m.  We 
onderfm 
lined  to 


NINEVEH. 


55 


t 


believe  that  we  have  dreamed  a  dream,  or  have  listened 
to  some  tale  of  Eastern  romance." 

The  present  condition  of  Nineveh  is  a  marvellous 
illustration  of  the  fulfilmont  of  prophecy.     Shapeless 
mounds,   defying,  by  their  want  of  anything  like  a 
definite  form,  the  description  of  the  traveller,  cover  the 
ruins  of  those  vast  palaces,  in  which  the  Assyrian 
monarchs  once  revelled  in  the  luxurious  impiety  of 
oriental  despotism.     But  whilst  we  read  the  narratives 
which  research  developes  from   an  almost  unknown 
character— whilst  we   contemplate    the    disentombed 
sculptures  which  seem  to  rise  up  as  mute  apparitions 
of  the  past,  we  are  deeply  impressed  with  the  sad  con- 
viction, that  "now  is  Nineveh  a  desolation,  and  dry 
like        Iderness;  and  flocks  lie  down  in  the  midst  of 
her,  uu  che  beasts  of  the  nations,  both  the  cormorant 
and  the  bittern  lodge  in  the  upper  lintels  of  it;  their 
voice  rings  in  the  windows,  and  desolation  is  in  the 
threshold." 


!,'l 


THEBES. 

T^IIE  sublime  greatness  of  the  dimensions, 
and  the  elaborate  magnificence  of  the 
decorations,  which  to  this  day  render 
ancient  Thebes  the  admiration  of  tra- 
vellers, sufficiently  attest  its  claims  to 
be  regarded  as  the  centre  and  mother 
city  of  the  once-glorious  kingdom  of 
Egypt.  Whatever  may  have  been  the 
magnificence  of  the  temples  at  Nine- 
veh, their  diminsions,  as  far  as  we  can  at  present  ascer- 
tain, fell  far  short  of  the  gigantic  structures  at  Luxor 
or  Karnak.  Moreover,  the  ruins  of  Thebes  tell  us 
more  of  real  history,  and  their  language  is  as  yet  better 
understood. 

Manetho,  a  writer  who  has  preserved  to  us  a  curious 
mixture  of  triuli  and  falsehood,  has  furnished  us  with 


.imensions, 
!nce  of  the 
lay  render 
ion  of  tra- 
s  claims  to 
nd  mother 
ingdom  of 
'■e  been  the 
s  at  Nine- 
sent  ascer- 
3  at  Luxor 
es  tell  U3 
yet  better 

I  a  carious 
:d  us  with 


'■■'-U    .  -t.l.'-.MJl-.  ■..I.IL.II.D.JUI.JJMUM.JI.UJLJI.JIJI.ULMJ 


THEBES. 


fit 


the  names  of  the  cities  in  which  the  kings  who  preceded 
Sesostns  reigned.  These  are  Elephantine,  Thebes,  or 
the  great  Diospolis,  (this  afterwards  called  Abydos,) 
Heracleopohs,  and  Memphis.  But  amid  the  uncertain 
traditions  which  hover  over  the  ruins  of  Egyptian  great, 
ness,  It  18,  perhaps,  better  to  seek  for  some  standLint 
of  at  least  probably  ascertained  history,  than  to 
entangle  ourselves  in  inextricable  researches  after  . 
mythical  founder;  and  we  shall,  theretore,  begin  our 
historical  notices  of  Thebes  with  Sesostris 

Like  Semiramis,  Theseus,  and  the  still  less  historic 
Hercules,  Sesostris  has  formed  a  favourite  hero  in 
whom  fiction  and  history  should  join  issue.     While  it 
seems  absurd  to  deny  his  personal  reality,  while  we 
have  ample  reason  and  authority  for  identifying  him 
with  RamesSs  the  Great,  whose  name  appears  Li2 
cuously  on  the  mighiy  structures  of  Luxor  and  Kernak 
we  cannot  but  feel  assured  that  much  exaggeration' 
much  romance,  has  been  blended  with  thelSrratire 
which  details  the  adventun.  of  this  great  conqueror 
The  advancement  of  the  arts  of  life,  forms,  as  usual, 
the  conclusion  of  his  earth's  mission,  and  SesostrL 
having  returned  as  the  haughty  victor  over  vastlS 
ries,  leaving  everywhere  the  monuments  of  his  aU  sub- 
duing perseverance,  probably  employed  the  captives 
who  swelled  his  train  in  works  of  public  utilityaLd 
magnificence     If  we  bear  in  mind,  the  bondage  of  ^e 

doubt t/ii'^  '^'^'  ^°'  ^"  °^^^*^^'"  -  --  h-e  H  tt 
doubt  that  the  same  poUcy  which  led  Nebuchadne^m 
U>  transport  large  number,  of  captives  to  the  r^ 

Sesostns;  and  maryr  of  ti«  structures  which  now  awf 


:^c 


^ 


00 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


US  by  their  wondrous  proportions,  and  conjure  up 
visions  of  a  city  of  Giants,  owed  their  existence  to  the 
wear  and  tear  of  human  life,  recklessly  spent  by  the 
conqueror  who  employed  the  vanquished  in  rearing 
monuments  to  attest  their  own  downfall. 

Herodotus  assigns  to  Scsoatris  the  systematic  and 
equal  division  of  the  Egyptian  territory,  and  a  system 
of  taxation  which  considerately  made  allowance  for  the 
occasional  encroachments  of  the  Nile,  and  the  conse- 
quent injury  or  decrease  to  which  private  estates  were 
liable,  as  well  aa  the  formation  of  canals  throughout 
the  country,  and  lofty  mounds  or  dykes  to  prevent 
damage  to  the  cities  during  the  annual  rising  of  the 
river.  While  such  a  statement  is  perfectly  agreeable 
to  the  character  of  Sesostris,  and  the  exigencies  of  his 
territory,  they  still  present  a  blending  of  the  character 
of  a  Numa  with  that  of  a  Napoleon,  a  consideration  for 
private  rights,  strangely  united  with  an  eagerness  for 
acquisition,  which  perhaps  distinguishes  Sesostris,  even 
in  our  imperfect  conception  of  his  character  and  motives, 
from  the  other  half-romantic  conquerors  of  the  human 
race. 

Chronologists  are  tolerably  agreed  in  fixing  the  epoch 
of  Sesostris  to  about  1500  b.  c,  upwards  of  a  century 
earlier  than  the  date  assigned  him  by  Herodotus.  To 
this  glorious  period,  it  is  probable  that  the  noblest 
works  of  Egyptian  art,  the  temples,  the  statues,  the 
obelisks  of  Thebes  belong,  and  that  the  "hundred- 
gated"  city  existed  in  the  fulness  of  its  might  and 
splendour,  from  about  1600  b.  c,  till  the  Ethiopian 
invasion  of  Sabaco,  about  800  b.  c. 

It  is  during  this  period,  then,  that  we  must  eontem- 


rss 


onjure  up 
nee  to  the 
nt  by  the 
n  rearing 

Tiatic  and 
a  system 
ce  for  the 
ho  conse- 
rates  were 
iroughout 
5  prevent 
f)g  of  the 
agreeable 
;ie3  of  his 
character 
ration  for 
?rness  for 
itris,  even 
i  raotivea, 
he  human 

the  epoch 
a  century 
>tn3.  To 
e  noblest 
itues,  the 
hundred- 
light  and 
Ethiopian 

t  eoDtem- 


THEBE8. 


61 


plate  Thebes  in  its  magnificence.  So  rich  are  we  in 
the  representations  of  Egyptian  greatness  ^hich  abound 
in  this  district,  that  vast  volumes  have  been  filled  with 
the  bare  outlines  of  gigantic  ruins  and  whole  folios 
dedicated  to  the  equally  sketchy  details  of  a  single 
temple. 

Modern  travellers,  of  a  very  recent  date,  agree  in 
describing  the  distant  prospect  of  the  ruins  of  Thebes 
as  poor  and  ineffective ;  nay,  even  when  comparatively 
near,  they  furnish  no  adequate  idea  of  the  gloomy 
sublimity  which  breaks  upon  the  view  as  we  approach" 
the  propylon  of  the  temple  of  Luxor.     This  magnifi- 
cent  gateway,  composed  of  two  pyramidal  propylsea, 
IS  two  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  fifty-seven  feet  above 
the  present  level  of  the  soil.     In  front  stood  two  obe- 
hsks,  in  red  granite,  each  eighty  feet  in  height,  and 
from  eight  to  nine  feet  wide  at  the  base.     Between 
these  obelisks  and  the  propylon  are  two  colossal  statues, 
also  of  red  granite,  and,  although  buried  in  the  ground 
up  to  the  chest,  measuring  twenty-one  and  twenty-two 
feet  to  the  top  of  the  mitre.     From  some  difi-erence  in 
the  costume,  it  is  supposed  that  one  represented  a  male, 
the  other  a  female  figure. 

Through  the  propylon,  we  pass  into  a  court  about 

232  feet  long,  by  174,  round  which  are  remains  of  a 

double  row  of  columns   in  various  stages  of  decay 

This  court  is  full  of  earth  and  rubbish,  chiefly  owing  to 

.ts  present  inhabitants,  the  Arabs,  having  placed  part 

of  their  village  within  the  enclosure.     Passing  through 

other  pyran,idal  propylnea,  we  come  to  a  double  row  of 

seven  columns,  11^  feet  in  diameter.    Here  the  axis  of 

the  temple  slightly  changes ;  and  we  meet  with  a  fur- 

6 


68 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


1 


ther  changa  of  the  lino,  on  entering  the  portico,  which 
is  composed  of  thirty-two  pillars  arranged  in  parallel 
rows.  From  this  irregularity  it  has  been  inferred,  with 
some  probability,  that  the  whole  structure  was  not 
raised  at  once,  but  was  the  work  of  successive  ages. 
It  has  been,  however,  also  supposed  that  the  reason  for 
this  irregularity  was,  that  the  northern  front  might  bo 
more  nearly  opposite  to  the  temple  of  Karnak. 

The  propyleea  of  this  noble  edifice  are  filled  with 
sculptures,  representing  the  triumph  of  some  ancient 
monarch  of  Egypt  over  an  Asiuilc  enemy:  an  event 
which  appears  to  have  been  a  favourite  subject  with 
the  sculptors  of  Egypt.     The  absence  of  the  adytum 
or  sanctuary,  as  well  as  the  different  subjects  of  the 
reliefs  or  intaglios,  which  occupy  the  walls  of  this  build- 
ing,  representing  battles,  hunting  scenes,  and  similar 
matters,   has   led   Heron   to   consider   the   edifice  at 
Luxor  to  have  been  a  palace,  or  rather  a  public  build- 
mg  for  some  civil  purpose.     Although  the  temples  and 
civil  buildings  of  Thebes  have  many  common  features, 
yet  the  sculptures  found  on  the  former  are  exclusively 
of  a  religious  and  symbolical  character.     Perhaps  the 
position  of  the  edifice,  which   might  seem  a  fitting 
entrance  to  the  state  ofiices  of  the  royal  city,  may 
give  additional  support  to  this  ingenious  and  probable 
conjecture. 

But  it  is  the  remains  of  Karnak  which  alike  defy 
comparison  and  description.  Champollion  has  enthu- 
siastically observed,  that  « the  imagination,  which  in 
Europe  rises  far  above  our  porticos,  sinks  abashed  at 
the  foot  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty  columns  of  the 
hypostcle  hall  of  Karnak." 


n 


tico,  which 
in  parallel 
'erred,  with 
6  was  not 
ssive  ages, 
reason  for 
t  might  bo 
k. 

filled  with 
De  ancient 

an  event 
bjcct  with 
tie  adytum 
ct3  of  the 
this  build- 
ad  similar 
edifice  at 
blic  build- 
tnples  and 

features, 
xclusively 
I'haps  the 

a  fitting 
ntj,  may 

probable 

ilike  defy 
IS  enthu- 
which  in 
ashed  at 
as  of  the 


THEBES.  ^ 

A3  Karnak  Is  pre-eminently  connected  with  the 
worship  of  Animon,  and  is,  moreover,  best  calculated 
to  copvov  some  idea  of  the  splendour  of  Thebes,  of 
"populous  No,  flidt  was  sitiiMte  among  the  rivers 
that  ha  (  the  waters  round  about  it,  who«e  rampart  was 
the  sea,  nnd  her  wall  was  from  the  sea"— a  somewhat 
circuTostru.tial  description  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  accept- 
able. 

About  <)ne  mile  and  a  quarter  lower  down  the  river, 
and  at  about  2,500  feet  from  its   banks,  are  these 
mighty  ru.ns,  the  chief  portion  occupying  an  artificial 
elevation,  surrounded   by  a  wall  of  unburnt  bricks, 
about  5,300  yards  in  circuit.     Within  these  walls  are 
the  remains  of  several  buildings,  the  largest  of  which 
is  contained  within  the  enclosure,  which  was  of  suflS- 
cient  extent  to  hold  also  a  large  tank,  cased  with  stone, 
and  with  steps  leading  down  to  it.     The  chief  or  west- 
ern front  is  turned  towards  the  Nile,  with  which  it  was 
connected  by  an  alley  of  colossal  ra  i-headed  sphinxes. 
At  the  termination  of  this  magnificent  avenue,  there 
was  probably  a  flight  of  steps  leading  down  to  the 
river. 

"Here,"  observes  Professor  Long,  "the  devotee 
would  land,  who  came  from  a  distance  to  the  shrine  of 
Aramon,  and,  with  amazement  and  a  feeling  of  religious 
awe,  would  he  slowly  walk  along  between  th.  majestic 
and  tranquil  sphinxes  to  the  still  more  magnificent 
propyla  of  the  building.  This  colossal  entrance  is 
about  360  feet  long,  and  198  feet  high,  but  without 
sculptures;  the  great  door  in  the  middle  is  sixty-four 
feet  in  height.  Passing  through  this  door-way,  he 
would  enter  a  large  court,  occupied  by  a  range  of 


lU 


64 


OREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


pillars  on  the  north  and  south  sides,  and  a  double  row 
of  tall  pillars  running  down  the  middle.     The  pillars 
in  the  middle  of  the  entrance-court  terminate  opposite 
to  two  colossal  statues  in  front  of  a  second  propylon, 
through  which,  after  ascending  a  flight  of  twenty-seven 
steps,  he  would  rome  to  a  large  hall  which  has  had  a 
flat  stone  roof.     This  is  the  great  hypostole  hall  of 
Karnak,  which  is  supported  by  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  colossal  pillars,  there  being  sixteen  columns  run^ 
ning  across  the  breadth  of  the  building,  in  nine  parallel 
rows,  which,  however,  as  we  shall  presently  notice,  offer 
some  irregularities. 

"The  hypostole  hall  has  a  double  row  of  larger 
pillars,  twelve  in  number,  running  down  the  centre. 
Owing  to  the  projection  of  a  doorway  or  entrance  from 
*he  court  which  succeeds  the  hypostole  hall,  there  aro 
two  pillars  cut  off  on  each  side  from  the  rows  of  smaller 
pillars  which  are  next  to  the  larger  ones.    This  reduces 
the  whole   number  to  one  hundred   and   thirty-four, 
which  would  be  one  hundred  and  forty-four,  if  all  the 
pillars  were  of  the  same  size,  and  if  there  were  no 
irregularity  in  the  two  rows  nearest  the  centre  rows 
on  each  side.     The  width  of  this  magnificent  hall  is 
about  338  feet,  and  the  length  or  breadth  170J  feet. 
It  is  remarkable  that  the  great  courts  and  chambers 
m   some   of   the   oldest  Egyptian   builings,   such   as 
Medmet-Abou  and   the   tomb   of  Osymandyas,  have 
their  width  greater  than  their  length:  the  entrance, 
m  fact,  IS  in  the  centre  of  the  longest  side.     The  area 
of  this  prodigious  hall  is  57,629  square  feet,  on  which 
stand  the  hundred  and  thirty-four  columns,  the  largest 
near  eleven  feet  in  diameter,  once  supporting  a  roof  o 


louble  ro\f 
ho  pillars 
0  opposite 
propylon, 
nty-eevcn 
U3  had  a 

0  hall  of 
k1  thirty- 
mns  run- 
e  parallel 
tico,  offer 

)f  larger 
J  centre, 
nee  from 
here  aro 
f  smaller 

1  reduces 
rty-four, 
f  all  the 
were  no 
ire  rows 

hall  is 
0^  feet, 
lambers 
3uch  as 
s,  have 
itrance, 
'he  area 
1  which 
largest 

roof  0 


THEBES. 


66 


enormous  slabs  of  stone.  Words  aro  inadequate  to 
express  the  grandeur  of  conception  exhibited  in  this 
design. 

"The  two  rows  of  columns  down  the  middle  are 
larger  than  the  rest,  and  were  designed  to  support  the 
highest  parts  of  the  roof,  in  the  vertical  sides  of  which 
Braall  window-lights  are  cut.  Both  the  j>illurs,  walls, 
and  propyla  of  this  magnificent  colonnade  are  com- 
pletely covered  with  sculptured  r.-rris  of  deities." 

We  must  not,  however,  fo  gef,  tb..i,  although  there  is 
evidence  that  among  these  i  loiiments  ',e  must  seek  for 
the  oldest  and  most  genuine  .p.^lmcnf^  if  Egj-ptian  art, 
they  do  not  by  any  means  apj     c:)iii  to  one  period  of 
Egyptian  greatness.    Some  parts  of  the  temple  at  Luxor 
and  of  the  larger  building  at  Karnak  bear  traces  of 
having  been  partly  constructed  out  of  the  materials  of 
a  former  building.    This  is  evident  from  blocks  of  stone 
being  found  occasionally  placed  with  the  hieroglyphics 
inverted,  and  the  ruins  at  Nineveh  present  similar  indi- 
cations.    Although  we  find  the  names  of  Philip,  Alex- 
ander, and  Bernice,  represented  in  hieroglyphical  cha- 
racters, and  enclosed  in  the  usual  elliptical  rings,  we 
have  no  right  to  limit  the  antiquity  of  these  buildings 
to  the  era  of  the  Macedonian  occupation  of  Egypt 
(B.  c.  525.) 

Such  was  Thebes.  Occupying  a  site  one  hundred 
and  forty  furlongs  in  circumference,  sending  forth, 
actufding  to  the  quaint  calculations  of  the  father  of 
Greek  poetry,  its  twice  ten  thousand  armed  chariots, 
yet  did  the  curse  of  idolatry  pursue  it,  and  No-Ammon 
became  the  burden  of  the  prophet,  and  the  unhappy 
subject  of  divine  judgments.     Some  time  before  Nine- 


66 


GllKAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


veh  fell,  Nalium  had  threatened  her  -with  the  fate  of 
No-Aimnon,  and  bewailed  the  fall  of  the  city  of  an 
hundred  gates. 

As  Thebes  in  ancient  times  had  preserved  her  power 

ndependeiitly  of  the  invasions  of  the  shepherd  kings, 
and  as  she  had  subsequently  risen  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  greatness  and  prosperity,  so  was  her  fall  consum- 
mated by  the  slow  but  certain  destructiveness  of  man. 
Conquered  by  the  Ethiopians,  the  Egyptians  fell  into 
disorder,  and  were  but  indifferently  re-united  under  the 
reign  of  Psammethicus.  The  Persian  conquest,  in  B.  c. 
626,  under  the  guidance  of  the  childish  and  cruel 
Cambyses,  was  naturally  fraught  with  evil  consequences 
to  works  of  art,  although  Pliny  has  preserved  a  story 
to  the  effect  that  Cambyses  was  so  struck  with  admira- 
tion at  one  of  the  obelisks,  that  he  ordered  the  flames 
to  be  quenched  when  they  reached  its  base.  The  great 
population  of  Thebes  lived  chiefly  in  Avooden  huts,  and 
the  vast  flames  rising  from  so  large  a  mass  of  combus- 
tible materials  would  crack  and  displace  the  stones  even 
of  the  greatest  buildings.  Fire  ever  does  for  man's 
works  what  the  sword  does  more  quickly  for  man 
himself. 

Under  the  Ptolemies,  little  was  done  to  restore  or 
embellish  Thebes,  and  in  the  reign  of  Ptolemy  Lathyrus 
(b.  c.  86)  this  city  rebelled,  and,  after  a  three  years 

iege  was  captured  and  pillaged  by  its  offended  master. 
But  from  the  first  blow  struck  by  the  Ethiopian  Sabaco, 
Thebes  had  gradually  declined.  Egypt  had  continually 
kept  assuming  a  dependent  position,  and  this  her  mighty 
stronghold,  the  admiration  of  the  world,  gave  up  her 
ancient  honours,  and  was  loft  bare  and  defenceless 


THEBES. 


the  fate  of 
city  of  an 

her  power 

erd  kings, 

^hest  pitch 

11  consum- 

ss  of  man. 

s  fell  into 

under  the 

!st,  in  B,  c. 

and  cruel 

iscquencea 

hI  a  story 

th  admira- 

tlie  flames 

Tlie  great 

.  huts,  and 

if  corabus- 

tones  even 

for  man's 

for   man 

restore  or 
»■  Lathyrus 
iree  years 
ed  master, 
m  Sabaco, 
ontinually 
ler  mighty 
ve  up  her 
lefenceless 


67 


by  her  degenerating  inhabitants.     Under  the  Romans 
It  lost  the  last  remnants  of  Avealth  and  power. 

The  present  appearance  of  the  ruined  district,  bear- 
mg  melancholy  witness  to  the  destructiveness  of  man 
and  the  perishable  feebleness  of  his  greatest  works,  is 
well  described  by  a  modern  writer.*    "  The  whole  of  this 
great  extent  is  more  or  less  strewed  with  ruins,  brc  en 
columns,   and   avenues   of  sphinxes,   colossal   figures 
obelisks,    pyramidal    gateways,    porticoes,    blocks    of 
polished  granite,  and  stones  of  extraordinary  magni- 
tude;  while  above  them,  'in  all  the  nakedness  of  deso- 
lation,'  the  colossal  skeletons  of  giants'  temp.,3  are 
standing  in  the  unwatered  sands,  in  solitude  and  silence. 
They  are  neither   grey  nor   blackened;  there  is   no 
lichen,  no  moss,  no  rank  grass  or  mantling  ivy  to  robe 
them  and  conceal  their  deformities.    Like  the  bones  of 
man,  they  seem  '  to  whiten  under  the  sun  of  the  desert ' 
The  sand  of  Africa  has  been  their  most  fearful  enemy 
blown  upon  them  for  more  than  three  thousand  years' 
It  has  buried  the  largest  monuments,  and,  in  some 
instances,  almost  entire  temples." 

*  Stephens'  Incidents  of  TrarelB,  p.  83, 


j 


I 


I 

i, 

I, 


'\/lllt 


MODERN  KQTPTIANS. 


MEMPHIS  AND   HELIOPOLIS. 

>BOUT  ten  miles  south  of  Jizeh, 
where  stand   the  great   pyra- 
mids,   the    village    of    Mctra- 
henny,   half    concealed    in    a 
thicket  of  palm  trees,  on  the 
■western  side  of  the  river,  marks 
the  site  of  the  once  mighty  city 
of  Memphis,  the  Noph  of  the 
Scriptures.      It    has    heen   so 
much  exposed  to  plunder  from 
the  successive  conquerors  of  the 
country,  who  have  used  it  as  a  stone-quarry,  that  its  very 


MEMPHIS    AND    IIKLIOl'OLIS. 


69 


LIS. 

th  of  Jlzeh, 
;rcat   pyra- 
of    Motra- 
aled    in    a 
?cs,  on  the 
iver,  marks 
nighty  city 
oph  of  the 
s    heen   so 
indcr  from 
!rors  of  the 
lat  its  very 


Bite  has  been  doubted.  Various  remains  of  the  great 
temple  of  Phth^,  and  of  other  sacred  buildings,  are 
loosely  scattered  over  an  extensive  space;  the  most 
interestmg  being  some  fine  red  granite  blocks,  of  great 
size;  forming  portions  of  colossal  statues  lonr.  since 
broken  to  pieces. 

As  Thebes  was  the  capital  city  of  Egypt  during  its 
h.stonca    period,  so  was  Memphis  for  a  long  time  its 
rival  both  as  a  regal  city,  and  a  seat  of  commerce.     It 
also  appears  to  have  been  the  capital  city  of  that  portion 
of  Egypt  m  or  near  which  the  Israelites  were  settled 
As  tlus  IS  nearly  the  earliest  occasion  in  which  Egypt 
bears  a  ^.rominent  part  in  sacred  history,  a  brief  view 
ot  b.r  Gardner  WiHinson's  hypothesis  cannot  fail  to 
be  interesting.     It  must  be  recollected,  however,  that 
no  attempt  is  here  made  to  substantiate  or  reco'-'^ 
statements  which  labour  under  difficulties,  the  com..  - 
result  of  imperfect  documents  and  extravagant  chro- 
nology. 

_  The  Amosis,  or  Ames,  who  was  the  leader  of  the 
eig^iteenth   or   Theban   Dynasty,   Wi^'dnson    supposes 

0  have  been  the  king  under  whom  the  oppression  of 
the  Israelites  commenced.  Under  the  old  Memphito 
dynasty,  the  Jews,  "who  had  come  into  Egypt  on 
occasion  of  a  famine,  findin.  fhe  great  superiority  of 
the  land  of  Egypt,  both  for  obtaining  the  necessaries 
of  life  and  for  feeding  their  flocks,  may  have  asked  and 
obtained  a  grant  of  land  from  the  Egyptian  monarch, 
on  condition  of  certain  services  being  performed  by 
them  and  their  descendants."    But  on  the  accession  of 

he  Iheban  family  under  Amosis,  who  was  probably  the 

-ew  king  who  know  not  Joseph,"  it  wouM  be  rea- 


70 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   M'ORLD. 


Bonable  to  suppose  that,  coming  from  the  distant  pro- 
vince of  Thebes,  the  Hebrews  would  be  strangers  to 
him,  and  that  he  was  likely  to  look  upon  them  with  the 
same  distrust  and  contempt  with  which  the  Egyptians 
usually  treated  foreigners.     Hence,  the  granf ^bein. 
rescmded,  but  the  service  still  required,  the  Jews  wer^ 
reduced  to  a  state  of  bondage;  and  as  despotism  sel- 
dom respects  the  rights  of  those  it  injures,  additional 
labour  was  imposed  upon  this  unresisting  people.    And 
Pharaohs  pretended  fear,  lest,  in  the  event  of  war, 
they  might  make  common  cause  with  tho  enemy,  was  a 
sufficient  pretext  with  his  own  people  for  oppressing  the 
Jews,  at  the  same  time  that  it  had  the  effect  of  exciting 
heir  prejudices  against  them.    Thus  they  were  treated 
like  the  captives  taken  in  war,  and  were  forced  to 
undergo  the  gratuitous  labor  of  erecting  public  grana- 
ries, .nd  other  buildings  for  the  Egyptian  monarch. 

After  the  death  of  this  and  the  succeeding  prince, 
and  during  the  reign  of  TI>othmes  I,  Moses,  the  future 
regenerator  of  Hebrew  liberty,  made  a  first  effort  to 
resist  the  oppression  under  which  his  countrymen  had 
groaned,  and  was  compelled  to  take  flight  in  order  to 
avoid  the  consequences  of  his  boldness.     At  the  death 
ot    h,s  king  s  successor,  no  longer  dreading  the  wrath 
of    he  authorities,   and  stimulated  by  a  heaven-sup- 
ported patriotism,  he  returned  to  Egypt,  and,  after 
displaying  an  unexampled  series  of  God's  judgments 
against  the  callous  idolatry  of  the  heathen  otpr°essorI 

If  this  prince  were  really  the  Pharaoh  under  whom 
the  Israelites  left  Egypt,   he  was,   according  to  the 


I 


.'•li 

i 


distant  pro- 
strangers  to 
lem  with  the 
e  Egyptians 
grant  being 
e  Jews  were 
spotism  sel- 
3,  additional 
Jople.    And 
ent  of  war, 
lemy,  was  a 
dressing  the 
of  exciting 
ere  treated 
'■  forced  to 
iblic  grana- 
lonarch. 
ing  prince, 
1  the  future 
it  effort  to 
•jmen  had 
n  order  to 
the  death 
the  wrath 
eaven-sup- 
and,  after 
jiidgmenta 
pprcssors, 
the  house 

der  whom 
ig  to  the 


MEMPHIS   AND   HBLrOPOLIS. 

evidence  of  monuments,  one  of  tlio  most  talented  and 
prosperous  monarchs  previous  to  the  supposed  Augus- 
tan  era  of  Sesostris.  But  these  facts,  according  to  the 
theory  we  mention,  are  wholly  inconsistent  with  the 
8uppc«,t,on  that  he  was  drowned  with  his  army  in  he 
Red  Sea  whilst  m  pursuit  of  the  Israelites.     On  the 

sequent  to  the  Exodus. 

thought  .  safe  one,  must  bo  d«;i<i«l  by  persons  more 

onversan.  with  original  reeords  than  /ol  ,ZniZ 

bo    but  there  sooms  little  doubt  that  Memphis  and 

Thebes  may  have,  under  various  vieissitudes  and  polilt 

changes,  d.vidod  the  honour  of  sending  an  abS 

ruler     The  supposition  that  two  kings,  of  different 

local  dynasties,  reigned  together  at  eerta  „  periods™ 

Egyptian  history,  ha,  already  been  noticed. 

struck  by  the  coincidence  between  the  facts  of  Mem- 
phis having  been  the  grand  seat  of  persecution  agatot 

ttn  ::sr;' "".""  'r^  «■«'■'  »f  "^outeTC 

e  rfof  I        ™'  "^"'""'^  ™  "  '»  ">»  Almighty, 
care  for  h,s  own,  most  suited  to  his  avenging  justice 

e    mt'tr"     '"'■"''°"''  ""P'"'"  '."".iliatioVshtuTd 
become  the  most  signal  evidence  of  his  triumph  over 
.her  enemies     Great  as  were  his  judgments  La  ^ 
Thebes,  her  rums  still  bear  far  greater  marks  of  farmer 
»agn,ficence  than  the  shattered  and  irregular  remn™  , 

tlteoVaTo'     ""''''•'""  '^"""^''^  *»  -»'*  "1 

Before  concluding  our  notices  of  Egyptian  cities  we 

7 


74 


OUBAT  CITIES   OP  TUB   WORLD. 


will  direct  the  reader's  attention  to  tlie  great  temple 
of  Apollinopolis  Magua,  (Edfou,)  on  tlic  left  brunch  of 
the  Nile,  between  Syene  and  Esnoli,  which,  before  the 
French  expedition  to  Egypt  under  Napoleon,  was 
almost  unknown.  It  is  a  niagniCu-ont  work  of  art,  and 
interesting  not  only  as  preaonting  a  fair  average  of  the 
sacred  structures  of  Egypt,  but  because  of  its  supposed 
resemblance  to  the  temple  of  Solomon.  It  is  described 
as  follows  in  the  "Egyptian  Antiquities:" — 

"  The  entrance  is  composed  of  two  pyramidal  moles, 
sometimes  called  propyhoa  by  modern  writers,  each 
front  of  which  is  about  104  feet  long,  and  87  feet  wide 
at  the  base  ;  the  moles  are  about  114  feet  high.  Those 
dimensions  diminish  gradually  from  the  base  to  the 
summit,  where  the  horizontal  section  is  84  feet  by  20. 
The  walls  of  the  moles  arc  sonlpturod  with  immense 
figures,  in  the  best  style  of  Egyptian  art;  and  between 
the  moles  is  the  grand  entrance.  This  entrance  con- 
ducts to  a  eourt  (which  may  be  partly  seen  in  the  view) 
surrounded  by  pillars.  On  each  of  the  larger  sides 
there  is  a  row  of  twelve  pillars  which  are  placed  at 
some  distance  from  the  side  walls;  and  as  the  space 
between  the  tops  of  the  pillars  and  the  wall  is  '  f»ofed 
over,  a  covered  jportlco  is  formed,  which  leads  on  each 
side  to  the  doors  of  the  staircases  which  are  in  the 
pyramidal  moles.  These  staircases  furnish  access  to 
the  chambers  of  the  prop \liva.  There  is  also  a  row  of 
four  pillars,  including  the  corner  one,  on  each  side  of 
the  doorway  as  we  enter  the  court,  similarly  covered 
over.  From  the  base  of  these  pillars  to  the  top  of  the 
stone  covering  is  about  37  feet,  G  inches.  Fro  •  the 
entrance  of  the  court  to  tiic  porch  of  the  temple  itself 


1 


D. 

great  temple 
left  brunch  of 
icli,  before  the 
^"polcon,  was 
rk  of  nrt,  and 
average  of  the 
)f  its  supposed 
It  is  described 

•ainidal  moles, 

writers,  each 
il  37  feet  wide 
;  high.  Those 
B  base  to  the 
B4  feet  b^  20. 
with  immense 
;  and  between 
entrance  con- 
n  in  the  view) 
3  larger  sides 
are  placed  at 

as  the  space 
wall  is  "oofed 
leads  on  each 
'h  are  in  the 
ii.sh  access  to 
also  a  row  of 

each  side  of 
ilarly  covered 
the  top  of  the 
3.     Fro      the 

temple  itself 


1. . 


.,>ilkili 


MEMPHIS  AND   IIELIOPOLIS. 


77 


tl^crc  18  a  gradual  ascent  by  a  kind  of  steps,  go  that  the 
port.co  as  about  5Q  feet  above  the  lovrest  level  of  the 
court.     This  IS  common  in  many  other  temples,  and 
appears  to  have  been  done  for  the  purpose  of  givi,.. 
elevation  to  the  facade.     In  the  temple  at  Edfou,  the 
portico  consists  of  eighteen  pillars,  six  in  a  row;  the 
mtercolumniations  of  the  central  pillars  formin-  the 
doorway,  being,  as  usual,  the  largest.    The  intercolum- 
nmtions  of  the  front  row  of  pillars  are  built  up  to  half 
their  height      After  passing  through  this  porch  there 
IS  a  doorway  leading  to  th^     .kos  or  cells,  which,  in  the 
i-gyptmn  temples  is  always  divided  into  several  apart- 
mcnts      The  entrance  passage  has  on  each  side  a  long 
chamber,  and  conducts  into  a  large  hypostole  hall,  sur^ 
polled  by  twelve  pillars.     It  has  a  flat  roof,  com^ose^ 
of  thick  slabs  of  stone,  resting  on  large  stone  beams 
^vhIch  cross  from  each  pillar  to  the  next  in  the  same 
rov.        .fter  leaving  this  chamber  we  come  to  another 
long  .Pu  narrow  one,  from  which  there  are  two  small 
ntrances  to  the  side  galleries,  wherein  we  see  flights 
ot    te  .  lea.'uig  upwards  to  the  roof  of  the  sekos. 
^till         her  wo  .ee  another  small  chamber,  with  an 
aj^artmct  o.    each  side  of  it,  probably  for  the  use  of 
the  priests      from   this  last-mentioned   chamber  we 
enter  the  holy  recess  itself,  (the  sanctuary,)  an  oblong 
room  about  33  feet  by  n,  in  which  the  figure  of   "^ 
deity  was  placed.  .  .  .  F,,,,  the  ehamber  which  is  lai 
mediately  in  front  of  the  adytum,  we  see  two  ^. lie  i  J 
run  down  on  each  side  of  it    .nd  leading  to  a  dlrway 
by  which  the  priest.  .  ight  walk  mto  a  large  but  per! 
fectly  retired  space  all  round  t.  .  ..nctuary,       miVht 
ascend  to  the  roof  ly  a  fli,;.  of  steps,  to'er,or?he 


11 


78 


(lUKAT   ilTIi:S   01'  Tin;   WOUI.I). 


puro  air  and  liglit  on  the  tt'rracod  roof;  for  In-low  tlicy 
iind  no  light  at  all,  except  it  mi;:lit  be  fioni  small  npor- 
tiires,  tliroiif!;Ii  \liich  tlio  Fellahs,  who  now  live  on  tho 
roof,  (li.selnu;^.  nil  their  ilirt  into  the  temple.  It  will 
hf'  ol)Horvo(l,  that  from  the  envi  red  f^allery.  on  ca(!li 
wide  of  tho  large  open  area,  Ih.  re  is  a  path  continuctl 
all  round  tho  temple,  between  the  outer  and  inner  wall, 
r  )hably  the  vul^^ar  Avere  allowed  to  nae  this  walk,  a» 
a  thiek  wall  was  between  them  ami  the  apartments 
devoted  to  the  priests  and  the  W(n-ship  of  theileity; 
for  none  hut  (ho  priests,  and  probably  tho  kin<:;s,  wero 
admitted  into  tho  inner  apartments,  nnieh  Ic  s  into  tho 
adytum,  whieli  eontained  the  representation  cd"  the 
deity. 

Now  it  oould  bo  dinienlt  to  estahlish  a  detailed 
analogy  bi-tAvocn  this  temi)lo  and  that  of  Solomon,  from 
tho  want  of  distinct  information  concornin;^  the  latter; 
but  wo  thiidv  that  tho  general  reseuiblanco  wdiich  wo 
have  sucrgestcd  will  bo  tho  more  confirmed,  the  more 
carefully  a  comparison  is  made." 


L. 


Ill-low  tlioy 
;ina11  apcr- 
livc!  on  tlio 

0.  It  will 
y.  on  cacli 
I  contiiiiieil 

inner  wall. 
in  walk,  as 
npartniontu 

tlio  tlcity ; 
kin.u;s,  wcro 
'f!8  into  tlio 
ion   <i('   the 

a  detailed 
onion,  from 

the  latter; 
0  which  wo 

1,  the  more 


PKRSKPOLIS. 

"An  rxnllod  fioil  is  Aunimii/.ilii, 
Wliu  ri-oat(M|  tliis  i-iiiHi  mi  J  ymiilcr  heaven, 
WIjo  ciTiiteil  the  rnci'H  of  men,  nnil  who 
Urouf^ht  f'lirth  t(i  li^'lit  their  iiilHhtiness; 
Who  Diiiijtt  liiiriiiM  II  ruler 
An  alone  ri'i^jiiin;;  l^lnR  over  luiiiiy, 
All  aloiie-niliiig  coiiiiiiiiihIci-  over  thousandf. 

"I  Hin  D.iiiiis,  King  exiilteil, 
King  or  l\ii);;s, 

KiiiK  of  nil  niition-cncloslii;,'  territories, 
King  of  tills  exulted  enrtli,  near  lui-.l  far, 
.Son  of  ItyNtiiKi.cH,  (III  Acliiicineniiin,  a  PcrBian, 
iSoii  or  nil  AiiiiM,  niysuiran  Ariun,  distributor  of  hoaoUTil 

"  Darins  the  Kinj;  lets  tliis  sounil  forth  :— 
15y  tlio  Kraco  of  Aunima/.ila,  I  tliCHO 
Following  regions  havu  conquered, 
Ik'sides  the  rersiiin  country.     I  am 

To  1)0  revered  of  them ;  to  inc  they  have  portioned  forth  tribute; 
Every  eommiind  of  mine  have  they  fulfilled  ;  and  my  law 
Was  respected  of  them : — 

"  Media,  Snsinna,  Parthia,  Ariii, 
Hiictrin,  Sogdiana,  Chorasmia, 
Sarangla,  Arachotin,  Sattagydin,  Gandaria, 
Scindia,  the  Iraaus-dwclling  Sacao,  the  Sacae, 
Drinkeru  in  of  the  fuimta  of  Tigris,  Babylonia,  AssyrU, 
Arabia,  Mythrayn,  (.lilgyptia,)  Armenia, 
Cappadocia,  Sparta,  Ionia,  the  over-sea-residing  Sacae, 
The  Skhudrii  (?Sc-yths,)  the  loniana  of  Tiuros,  the  Budiani, 
The  Khuschiyae,  tlie  Madiyae,  the  Chalcidiana, 

"  Darius  the  King  lets  this  sound  afar  :— 
When  Auraraazda 
Beheld  tiiig  eaz-th 

^79) 


80 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TH.K  WOB&D, 


1 


Afar  from  what  was 

Right,  as  a  king  it  pleased  him 

To  constitute  me.     I  am  King 

By  the  grace  of  Atiramazda ; 

I  have  ordei-ed  them  again  to  healthinea* 

What  I  directed  them  to  do,  that 

Did  they  as  it  seemed  good  «n*o  me; 

Whatercr  entered  into  my  mind, 

Commanded  I  those  nations  to  perform; 

Those  nations  reigned  over  by  Darius. 

*  *  -i:  JH  # 

"  If  you  hold  carefully  tiie  eculpturo 
It  brings  you  comfort, 
If  you  wilfully  damage  it, 
Heirlessn'^ss  shall  be  your  part. 
Afar  off  from  the  Persians.         *        * 
Passed  away  shall  be  the  inheritance, 
Afar  ?ff  shall  dwindle  the  Persians! 
Up  Persians,  and  castigate  sinfulness! 

"  This  is  sounded  afar  of  Darius 
The  king :— What  I  have  completed  is  by  the  grace  of  AuraiB»xd»> 
Slay  thou  protect  me  and  my  work, 
And  my  nations  and  these  territories!     This  I 
Entreat  of  Auramazda !     May  Aui-aroazda  reign  t 

"  Man !  pursue  uniformly  the  ordinances  of  Auramazda ; 
Holy  precepts  I    Let  him  be  thy  enlightener ! 
Relinquish  not  the  str,  ight  way ! 
Sin  not !     Avoid  to  destroy !" 

Such  are  the  strains  in  which  the  Persians  of  old 
celebrated  the  glories  of  their  nation  under  the  reign 
of  Darius  Hjstaspes.  This  triumphal  Psean,  which,  like 
the  Odes  of  the  Theban  Pindar,  blends  haughty  and 
exulting  praises  of  the  conqueror  with  quaint  moral 
saws  and  precepts,  forms  a  fitting  introduction  to  our 
notice  of  the  ruined  city  of  Persepolis.  It  must,  how- 
ever, be  observed,  that  these  ruins,  although,  by  th* 


'Auramuda^ 


ns  of  old 
the  reign 
vhich,  like 
ighty  and 
int  moral 
ion  to  our 
lust,  how- 
fa,  bj  the 


rERSKPOLIS. 


81 

height  of  the.r  columns  compared  with  the  thinness  of 
their  propoifons,  they  may  seem  to  approximate  to  the 
« hm  dehcacy  of  the  Corinthian  style  of  Grecian  art, 
s  .11  then,  clanns  to  a  high  school  of  art  are  less  esta! 
Wished  than  those  of  their  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  pro- 
totypes.    Va  x,  one  of  the  most  distinct  and  compre. 
hensive  wnters  on  the  subject,  well  points  out  the  two 
disnnct  schools  of  art  indicated  by  the  monuments  of 
ancient  Persia,  as  those  executed  previous  to  the  period 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  and  those  which  are  due  to  the 
monarchs   of   the    Sassanian    house.     Of   the    former 
c  ass,  those  of  Persepolis  hav3  the  best  claim  to  our 
attention   as  well  from  their  own  magnificence,  as  from 
0  complete  information  with  wliich  the  frequent  visits 
of  travellers  have  furnished  us. 

If  the  reader  expect  to  find  many  known  historical 
lacts  connected  with  the  history  of  the  -  Forty  Pillars  " 
as  these  ruins  arc   popularly  called,  he  will   be  even 
more  disappointed  than  in  the  case  of  the  Babylonian 
an    Assyrian  remains.     It  nowhere  appears  in 'histor^ 
m  the  charac  er  of  a  royal  residence,  although,  as  our 
description  will  presently  show,  their  burial  place  has 
been  discovered  among  the  caves  of  its  neighbouring 
mountains.     Cyrus,  the  regenerator  of  oriental  powef 
and  civilization,   as  well  as  his  descendants,  resided 
a  ternately   at    Babylon,    Susa,    and    Ecbatna,    and 
chronological  reasons  seem  to  render  it  unlikei;  that 
Cyrus  could  have  spent  much  time  at,  or  added  to  th 
splendour  of  Persepolis.     To  Darius,  son  of  C    pt 
and  Xerxes  recent  investigations  seem  to  assfgn  E 
beyond  muca  reason  for  doubt 
Assumuifo  cVy..  vU.  Pprsepoli.  owed  its  chief  magni- 


82 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


ficence  to  the  liberality  of  the  former  of  those  two  kings, 
a  brief  glance  at  the  political  influence  and  condition 
of  the  Persians  under  hira  will  perhaps  form  the  best 
Introduction  to  our  notice  of  Persepolis  in  its  fallen 
condition. 

Herodotus  has  dwelt  with  much  Jjpparcnt  accuracy 
upon  the  political  acts  of  this  prince,  which  present  the 
same  blending  of  the  arts  of  war  and  peace,  the  same 
impatience  for  extended  empire  united  Avith  the  same 
cautious  conversation  at  homo,  which  we  find  in  the 
other  chief  personages  of  philosophical  history.  Aa  in 
the  case  of  Egypt,  accumulated  territory  required  a  dis- 
tribution of  official  luflucnco,  and  the  now  large  empire 
of  Persia  wad  divided  inlu  nineteen  satrapies.  Hero- 
dotus is  evidently  wrong  in  regarding  this  as  a  merely 
financial  arrangement,  made  with  a  view  to  tlic  taxation 
of  districts,  although,  as  has  been  suggested,  it  is  not 
perfect  as  a  geograi)lucal  one.  Places  extremely  dis- 
tant are  found  ranged  under  one  satrapy,  but  it  seems 
possible  that  this  arrangement  migiit  have  resulted  from 
a  desire  of  conciliating  the  feelings  of  particular  people, 
who,  although  distant,  were  best  disposed  to  yield 
obedience  to  some  leaders  who.^e  dispositions  they  had 
each  previously  experienced.  Furthcrinoie,  such  an 
arrangement  would  be  frauglit  with  little  iuconvcnienca 
in  a  country,  where  an  organized  stnft'  of  couriers  per- 
formed the  functions  of  a  regular  })ost,  and  thus  pre- 
served uniformity  by  a  systematic  and  steady  convey- 
ance of  the  royal  despatches  and  edicts.  By  such 
means  the  natural  tendency  to  revolt,  to  which  Ave  have 
before  referred  in  the  case  of  other  mixed  populations 
of  the  east,  was  efficiently  curbed,  one  province  being 


t\TO  kings, 

.  condition 

1  the  best 

its  fallen 

I  accuracy 
resent  the 
,  the  same 
the  same 
nd  in  the 
•y.  As  in 
lired  a  dis- 
•ge  empire 
'S.  Hcro- 
3  a  merely 
e  taxation 
I,  it  is  not 
emely  dis- 
it  it  seems 
:ilted  from 
ar  people, 
to  yield 
they  had 
,  such  an 
liivciiienco 
ariers  per- 
thus  pre- 
ly  convey- 
By  such 
h  we  have 
opulationa 
nee  being 


J 


Ildl 


^  m 


louring  such  a  reign,  it  is  fair  to  suppose  that  PaZ 
pohs  was  second  to  none  of  the  leaZ  dMe.  "t 
more,  it  may  have  been  the  leading  scene  of  1  ^ 
quering  Darius.  ^  *^  *°®  <^''"' 

clouded  by  the  „™lt  of  EgypTand  bv  th  ^:!  »" 
"ruck  by  .he  successive  defeat?  „^.,,'°,f''"'' """' 
Rat.,  aud  Maratbou,  ont^lC^V^T^r 

of  PersepoH  left  unfinished  by  h  s  faZ  J-    '^t  "° 
W.  best  clai„  to  „en.ioa  i.  th^    Ltlfi  ^  ^'^^ 

of  The"Z  "°«  '"■"""^  '°  «■''  '»»-'  *"«"  "f  *«  ruin. 
ot  the  magnificence  which  the  united  •eatimir  / 

ancient  writers  has  assigned  to  the  Zl  l"'"""'"?  °' 
Persepolis.     The  voice  of  so  eloaufntand     "  ""^  °^ 

Forty  piis^r-eT-r^^^^ 

/aircase,  proj^fn  rsiSetr '^f:  ^ '' 
face  of  the  terraoA  tv,^    u  ,    ,  *"®  northern 

feet;  and  at  "ah'  extremt  "*""  °'  "'"»''  »  ^^^ 
another  range  of  sL'  !"  •^'  T  *""  ™''  «" 
projecting  from  i  Xhtcrfee:'""'  '""  •°''""»- '««' 
flights,  ritin.  from  ,H„T  '  °''''""'  ""•  '"■'""• 
of  the  range!  iXi !  .  f  ™ /"""f '  '''■«"  «!>«  extent 
fcc,  .nelu,,in^  *  Uadmg-pli^,,  of  iw„tj  feet, 


|gCHiilt»'.l3««*.i ;  »^mt 


86 


SREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


amounts  to  eighty-six  feet.  The  ascent,  like  that  of 
the  great  entrance  from  the  plain,  is  extremely  gradual  r 
each  flight  containing  only  thirty-two  low  steps,  none 
exceeding  four  inches  in  height,  fourteen  inches  in 
breadth,  and  sixteen  feet  in  length.  The  ">vhole  front 
of  the  advanced  range  is  covered  with  sculpture.  The 
eye  at  first  roves  over  it,  lost  in  the  multitude  of  figures, 
and  bewildered  by  the  thronging  ideas  instantly  asso- 
ciated with  the  crowd  of  various  interesting  objects 
before  it.  The  space  immediately  under  the  landing- 
place  is  divided  into  throe  compartments.  The  centre 
one  has  a  plain  surface,  as  if  intended  for  an  inscrip- 
tion ;  probably  writing  may  have  been  there  wliich  is 
now  obliterated  To  the  left  of  it  are  four  standing 
figures,  about  five  feet  six  inches  high,  habited  in  long 
robes,  with  brogues  like  buskins  on  their  feet.  They 
each  hold  a  short  spear  in  an  upright  position  in  both 
hands.  The  fluted  flat-topped  cap,  before  described  on 
other  bas-reliefs,  is  on  their  heads ;  and  from  the  left 
shoulder  hangs  their  bow  and  quiver.  On  the  right  of 
the  vacant  tablet  are  three  figures  only.  They  look 
towards  the  opposite  four,  and  differ  in  no  way,  with 
respect  to  their  robes  and  fluted  helmet ;  but  they  have 
neither  bows  nor  quiver,  carrying  their  spear  only, 
with  the  addition  of  a  large  shield  on  the  left  arm, 
something  in  the  shape  of  a  violoncelh) ;  or  rather,  I 
should  say,  exactly  in  the  form  of  a  Boeotian  buckler. 
Two  angular  spaces,  on  each  side  of  the  corresponding 
groups  of  spearmen  described  on  the  surface  uf  the 
staircase,  are  filled  with  duplicate  representations  of  a 
fight  between  a  lion  and  a  bull,  a  most  spirited  and 
admirable  performance From  the  circumstance 


ike  that  of 
;ly  gradual : 
steps,  none 
1  inches  in 
rthole  front 
)ture.  The 
0  of  figures, 
tantly  asso- 
ing  objects 
lie  landing- 

The  centre 
'  an  inscrip- 
ive  which  is 
XV  standing 
itcd  in  long 
■oet.  They 
tion  in  both 
■escribed  on 
om  the  left 
the  right  of 

They  look 
0  way,  with 
t  they  have 
spear  only, 
e  left  arm, 
or  rather,  I 
Ian  buckler, 
(•responding 
face  uf  the 
tations  of  a 
piritod  and 
ircumstance 


"^f 


a 


persepolis. 


87 


of  a  collar  round  the  neck  of  the  ball,  it  proves  him  tc 
be  no  wild  one,  and  that  we  are  not  to  understand  the 
combat  ,:s  accidental:  but  whether  it  may  be  received 
as  a  proof   tbat  mc\    con.bnts  wovo   brought   forward 
before  the  Persian  people,  is  anotl.er  ,,ue,4tion.      That 
Wild  aniMials.  of  the  nntameable  sr.rt.  were  not  merelv 
huntc.l  by  the  bold  spirits  of  tbese  eastern  princes,  but 
preserve.!  near  their  palaces,  is  evident  from  the  liohs' 
den  which  we  find  at  Babylon  after  its  coftquest  by 
tyrus;  but  by  no  accounts  that  I  can  recollect,  does 
1^  appear  tbat  boasts  so  immured  tvere  ever  used  for 
Import  of  any  kind  after  their  first  capture.     On  the 
'ncl.ned   plams,   corresponding  with   the  slope  of  the 
stan-s,  runs  a  kind  of  frieze,  on  which  is  cut  a  line  of 
figures,  one  foot  nine  inches  high,  answering  in  number 
to  the  stops,  each   one   of  which  appears   to   form  a 
pedestal  for  its  relative  figure.     The  figures  themselves 
appear  to  be  a  l-ngtbening  rank  of  those  already  de- 
scribed  on  each  .-  •  .^-  the  blank  tablet:  and  a  similar 
range  runs  up  the  opposite  slope. 

"The  immense  space  of  the  uppor  platform  stretches 
0  tbe  north  and  south  850  feet,  and  from  eav.  to  west 
j^80  feet;  the  greater  part  of  v.':ic:  is  covred  with 
broken  capitals  shafts,  and  pillars,  a.  d  .  ..ntlesa  frag- 
ments of  building :  some  .f  which  .-o  richly  ornl 
mented  with  the  most  e.vquisite  sculpture.  The  pill.rs 
were  arranged  in  four  divisions,  consisting  of  a  con'tre 
group  SIX  deep  every  way,  and  an  advanced  body  of 
twelve,  m  tw-o  ranks,  and  the  same  number  flanking 
e  centre.     Th^^^^^^^ 

of  two  paraHel  lines  of  six  columns  in  each,  falb'ng 
t-nty  feet  back  from  the  landing-place  of  t  e  stairs 


88 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


and  meeting  the  eye  immediately  on  ascending  them. 

Ihe  CO  umns  are  at  equal  distances  from  one  another. 

One  only  still  stands ;  the  shattered  bases  of  nine  others 
BtiU  remain,  but  the  places  only  are  left  of  the  other 
two,  which  completed  the  colonnade.     Of  the  remain- 
ing columns,  which  once  decorated  these  colonnades 
nine   only  now   stand,   the    rest    have   been    totally 
destroyed    or  lie  buried  under  masses  of  ruins,  now 
forming  hillocks.     The  front  of  the  columns  is  very 
beautiful;  their  total  height  is  sixty  feet,  the  circum- 
ference  of  the  shaft  sixteen,  and  its  length,  from  the 
capital   to  the  torus,  forty-four   feet.     The   shaft   is 
finely  fluted  m  fifty-two  divisions ;  at  its   lower  ex- 
tremity  begin  a  cincture  and  a  torus,  the  first  two 
inches  m  depth,  and  the  latter  one  foot,  from  whence 
devolves  the  pedestal,  in  the  form  of  the  cup  and  leaves 
of  a  pendant  lotus.    The  capitals  which  remain,  though 
much  mjured,  are  sufficient  to  shew  that  they  were 
once  surmounted  by  a  double  demi-bull." 


RLD. 

ascending  them, 
rom  one  another. 
368  of  nine  others 
left  of  the  other 
Of  the  remain- 
hose  colonnades, 
i^e  been    totally 
(S  of  ruins,  now 
columns  is  very 
feet,  the  circum- 
ength,  from  the 
The   shaft   is 
t  its   lower  ex- 
3,  the  first  two 
)t,  from  whence 
i  cup  and  leaves 
remain,  though 
that  they  were 


L. 


■   V 

■M 


^' 


=1 


ns^ 


1 


III'- 


o 

< 

p 


DAMASCUS. 

•  HE  history  of  Damascus  presents  a 
strong  contrast,  in  more  than  one 
respect,  to  that  of  the  cities  which 
have  hitliti       forniotl  the  subjects 
of  our  remarks.     Not  only  ai(>  the 
scriptural  notices  of  this  city  more 
distinct,  numerous,  and  interestint^, 
but  it  is  to  this  day  a  populous  and 
flourishing  city,  although  the  influ- 
ence  of  Moslemism  presses  with  a 
8tern  and  dcspotical  sway  upon  the  mixed  population 
of  Jews  and  Christians  which  throng  its  streets  and 
bazaars. 

Of  the  origin  of  this  most  scrij  'ural  .  cities,  nothing 
certain  is  known,  but  it  certainly  v  .s  well  known  in 
the  days  of  Abraham.  L.  Mur  ^naintains  that  it 
was  even  then  governed  by  its  o.n  rulers,  an  opinion 
which  IS  rendered  probable  by  its  subsequent  influence 
over  the  .hole  Syrian  empire.  Possessed  by  nature 
ot  e\^ry  advantage  of  situation  and  soil,  it  was  well 
suited  to  be  the  "head  of  Syria,"  the  powerful  and 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


A 


^^  /^^4s. 


v^w 


1.0    ^i 


I.I 


50 


2.5 


■^  1^    ill  2.2 
SS    lis    |||||2^ 


1.25 

1.4      1.6 

•* 6"     

► 

Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(7116)  873-4503 


>     .^   ^Q'    <J^ 


^v- 


Pt? 


92 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


busy  city,  which  was  hereafter  destined  to  give  alcrm 
even  to  the  favoured  king  of  the  Jews,  David,  and  his 
successor.  Benhadad  IL,  in  his  campaign  against 
Samaria,  was  accompanied  by  "  thirty  and  two  kings ;" 
and  although  these  were  doubtless  little  more  than 
pashas  or  satraps,  ruling  over  districts,  the  extent  of 
the  kingdom  of  Damascus  may  be  well  estimated  from 
their  number. 

But  great  as  was  the  power  of  Damascus  under  this 
prince's  reign,  idolatry  had  stretched  forth  its  corrupt- 
ing influence ;  and  although  Benhadad  was  permitted 
to  be  a  scourge  to  the  weak  and  waverirg  Ahab,  his 
boastful  impiety,  and  his  daring  challenge  of  Jehovah 
as  a  "god  of  the  hills,"  brought  down  a  signal  defeat, 
the  result  of  a  heaven-inspired  delusion ;  "  for  the  Lord 
made  the  host  of  the  Syrians  to  hear  a  noise  of  chariots, 
and  a  noise  of  horses,  even  the  noise  of  a  great  host  : 
and  they  said  one  to  another,  Lo,  the  king  of  Israel 
hath  hired  against  us  the  kings  of  the  Hittites,  and  the 
kings  of  the  Egyptians,  to  come  upon  us.     Wherefore, 
they  arose  and  fled  in  the  twilight,  and  left  their  tents, 
and  their  horses,  and  their  asses,  even  the  camp  as  it 
was,  and  fled  for  their  life."     During  a  subsequent  ill- 
ness, he  fell  a  victim  to  the  treachery  of  Hazael,  one 
of  his  chief  officers,  who  smothered  him  in  his  bed,  and 
^  continued  to  oppress  the  people  of  Israel  and  Judah, 
especially  the  former.     Jeroboam,  however,  effected  a 
diversion  in  favour  of  the  oppressed  Jews,  and  captured 
Damascus.     Subsequently,  we  find  Rezin  and  Pekah, 
the  confederate  kings  of  Damascus  and  Israel,  making 
a  joint  attempt  against  Ahaz,  king  of  Judah.     The 
prince  sought  aid  at  the  hands  of  the  Assyrian  monarch, 


DAMASCUS. 


98 


Tiglath  Pileser,  ^ho,  induced  by  a  large  bribe,  fell  upon 
and  captured  Damascus,  carrying  its  people  -captive  to 
Kir,  slaying  their  monarch,  and  uniting  the  Syrio- 
Damascene  territory  with  hia  own. 

The  glory  of  Damascud,  as  an  independent  kingdom, 
had  set ;  and  she  henceforth  appears  in  the  pages  of 
history  only  as  a  tributary  province.  Annexed  to  the 
Babylonian  and  Persian  empires,  it  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  just  after  the  decisive  battle 
of  Is3us  ;  and  at  his  death  formed  a  part  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Sek'iicidjie,  whence  it  passed  to  the  Romans. 

It  is  in  its  condition  as  a  Roman  province  that  Da- 
mascns   claims  especial  consideration,  in  reference  to 
the   history  of  the   New   Testament.     Fraught   with 
associations  the  most  interesting;  with  the  remembrance 
of  a  divine  interposition  the  most  sublime  in  its  mani- 
festation, the  most  important  in  its  influence  on  the 
spreading  forth   and   earth-wide   development  of  the 
mighty  truths  of  Christianity ;  the  scene  of  Paul's  con- 
version, humiliation,  and  "  setting  apart"  for  the  glori- 
ous work  that  was  to  change  darkness  into  light,  and 
spread  the  white  wings  of  the  angel  of  Truth  over  the 
whole  dark  abyss  of  an  erring  and  ignorant  world; 
Damascus,  next  to  Jerusalem,  lies  before  us  as  "  holy 
ground,"— as  one  of  those  spots  where  the  grandest 
convulsions  of  society  took  their  origin,  as  teeming  witli 
fondly-cherished  recollecti(ms  of  the  great  Apostle  who 
"  became  all  things  unto  all  men." 

It  is  not  diflScult  to  suppose  that  the  spots  pointed 
out  as  intimately  connected  with  St.  Paul's  vision  and 
conversion  may  have  been  preserved  by  the  pious 
remembrance  of  Christians;  and  that  the  traditions 


U=x=. 


84 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WOULD. 


which  place  the  scene  of  this  great  revelation  from 
heaven  about  half  a  mile  eastward  from  the  city,  and 
in  sight  of  Mount  Hormon,  as  well  as  those  which 
point  out  the  gate  (now  walled  up)  whence  Paul  was 
let  down  in  a  basket,  in  order  to  escape  from  the  death 
with  which  he  was  threatened,  deserve  more  credence 
than  is  always  to  be  accorded  to  such  stories.     Maun- 
drell,  whose  account  well  deserves  perusal,  quaintly 
describes  a  building  she^'n  as  the  house  of  Ananias, 
who  restored  Paul  to  sight.     "  The  pluco  shewn  for  it 
is,  according  to  the  old  rule,  a  small  grotto  or  cellar, 
affording  nothing  remarkable,  but  only  that  there  are 
in  it  a  Christian  Church  and  a  Turkish  praying-place, 
seated  nearer  to  each  other  than  well  agrees  with  the 
nature  of  such  places."     In  the  days  of  Benjamin  of 
Tudela,  the  taste  for  displaying  relics  did  not  confine 
itself  to  objects  of  Christian  interest.     A  grand  mosque, 
culled  the  "  Synagogue  of  Damascus,"  was  pointed  out 
as  the  palace  of  Benhadad,  '*  one  wall  of  which  was 
framed  of  glass  by  enchantment.     This  wall  contained 
as  many  openings  as  there  are  days  in  the  solar  year, 
and  the  sun  in  gradual  succession  threw  its  light  into 
the  openings,  which  were  divided  into  twelve  degrees, 
equal  to  the  number  of  the  hours  of  the  day,  so  that 
by  this  contrivance  every  body  might  know  what  v'ime 
it  was."     The  rib  of  an  ancient  giant-king,  ni»,med 
Abchamas,  traditionally  said  to  have  reigned  ovar  the 
whole  world,  was,  according  to  the  same  authority, 
exhibited  with  equally  superstitious  veneration. 

But  although  Damascus  was  thus  singularly  honoured 
in  being  made  the  scene  of  the  first  spreading  forth  of 
Christianity  among  the  Gentile  world,  the  compulsory 


DAMA.SCU!^. 


95 


>ng,  numeci 


escape  of  St.  Paul  proves  that  its  inhabitants  possessed 
httle  susceptibility  of  the  truths  which  were  thus  mira- 
culously  set  before  their  eyes.  Nor  is  it  uninstructive 
to  mark  the  connection  of  the  bigotry,  which  has  dis- 
tinguished the  conduct  of  the  inhabitants  towards  the 
Christians  at  a  later  period,  with  the  intolerant  fury  of 
Its  Jewish  inhabitants,  which  led  them  to  stifle  the  first 
dawning  of  the  truth,  and  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the 
awakening  voice  of  their  conscience-smitten  and  repent- 
ant  countryman. 

Nevertlieless,  as  if  in  mercy  to  the  scattered  people 
of  Israel,  Damascus  is,  to  this  day,  one  of  the  most 
flourishing  cities  of  the  East.     After  a  continued  exist- 
ence  for,  perhaps,  a  longer  period  than  any  other  city 
of  the  earth,  its  wealth,  trade,  and  commerce,  are  still 
suggestive  of  the  splendid  position  it  occupied  under 
the  Greek  emperors  of  Constantinople.     Despite  its 
conquests  by  Abubekr,  Muhammad's  famous  successor 
and   by  Timur   the  Tartar,  at   a   subsequent   period' 
despite  the  reign  of  Islamism  which  has  pressed  its 
harsh  footsteps  on  the  subdued  Christians,  Damascus 
18   a  lively  representative   of  every   country   of  the 
world.     While  Baalbek  and  Palmyra,  its  magnificent 
neighbours,  present  nought  but  a  heap  of  shattered 
ruins,  the  streets  of  Damascus  resound  with  the  busy 
hum  of  men ;  and  though  persecution  still  threatens  the 
name  of  Christian,  and  brands  the  Frank  as  unclean 
natural  influences  are  gradually  softening  the  cry  of 
bigotry,  and   ameliorating   the  condition  of  resident 
believers. 

Travellers  are  unanimous  in  describing  the  beauty     ' 
of  the  surrounding  plains,  and  the  picturesque  effect  of 


96 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


the  city  itself,  as  viewed  on  approaching  it.     Carne,  m 
his  Letters  from  the  East,  gives  the  following  interest- 
mg  description:— "On  the  following  day  we  set  out 
early,  impatient  to   behold   the  celebrated   plain  of 
Damascus.    A  large  round  mountain  in  front  prevented 
us  from  catching  a  glimpse  of  it,  until,  on  turning  a 
point  of  the  rock,  it  appeared  suddenly  at  our  feet. 
Perhaps  the  barren  and  dreary  hills  we  had  been  for 
some  days  passing  made  the  plain  look  doubly  beauti- 
ful,  and  we  stood  gazing  at  it  for  some  time  ere  we 
advanced.     The  domes  and  minarets  of  the  sacred  city 
rose  out  of  the  heart  of  a  forest  of  gardens  and  treees, 
which  was  twelve  miles  in  circumference.     Four  or  five 
small  rivers  ran  through  the  forest  and  city,  glittering 
at  intervals  in  the  sun :  and  to  form  that  vivid  contrast 
of  objects,  in  which  Asiatic  so  much  excels  European 
scenery,  the  plain  was  encircled  on  three  of  its  sides  by 
mountains  of  light  and  naked  rocks. 

"After  descending  the  mountain,  we  were  some  time 
before  we  entered  the  city.  Damascus  is  seven  miles 
m  circumference ;  the  width  is  quite  disproportionate  to 
the  length,  which  is  above  two  miles.  The  walls  of  this 
most  ancient  city  in  the  world  are  low,  and  do  not  en- 
close it  more  than  two  thirds  round. 
^  "  The  street  still  called  Straight,  and  where  St.  Paul 
IS  with  reason  said  to  have  lived,  is  entered  by  the  road 
from  Jerusalem.  It  is  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  a  mile 
m  length,  broad,  and  well  paved.  A  lofty  window  in 
one  of  the  towers  to  the  east,  is  shown  as  the  place 
where  the  apostle  was  let  down  in  a  basket.  In  the 
way  to  Jerusalem  is  the  spot  where  his  cour3e  v,as 
arrested  by  the  light  from  heaven.    A  Christian  is  not 


DAMASCUS. 


97 


allowed  to  reside  in  Damascus,  except  in  a  Turkish 

"The  great  number  of  tall  palm  and  cypress  trees 
m  the  plain  of  Damascus  add  much  to  its  beauty. 
The  fruits  of  the  plain  are  of  various  kinds,  and  of  ex- 
cellent flavour.     Provisions  are  cheap ;  the  bread  is  the 
finest  to  be  found  m  the  East ;  it  is  sold  every  morning 
m  small  light  cakes,  perfectly  white,  and  surpasses  in 
quality  even  that  of  Paris.     This  luxurious  city  is  no 
place  to  perform  penance  in;  the  paths  around,  wind- 
ing through  the  mass  of  fruit-trees,  invite  you  daily  to 
the  most  delightful  rides  and  walks.    Among  the  ruita 
produced  in  Damascus  are  oranges,  citrons,  afd  apri " 
of  various  kinds      The  celebrated  plain  of  roses"  from 
the  produce  of  which  the  rich  perfume  (attar  of  r  se^ 
13  obtained,  is  about  three  miles  from  the  town  •  it  i^a 
part  of  the  great  plain,  and  its  entire  area  is'th Lkh 
planted  with  rose-trees,  in  the  cultivation  of  which  great 
care  13  taken.  ^"gionii 

"The  place  called  'the  Meeting  of  the  Waters,  •  i. 
about  five  n.iles  to  the  north-we^t'of  the  ci^     5e 
the  nver  Barrady,  which  maybe  the  ancient  Abanl 
bemg  enlarged  by  another  river  that  fall,  into  it  S 

flow  through  the  plain.    The  separation  is  ther;adt  of 

hll.,  and  he  scene  .s  altogether  very  picturesque.  Thi 
streams  s„  or  seven  in  number,  are  some  of  them 
amed  to  water  the  orchards  and  gardens  of  thehighe^ 

to  the  city  and  form  a  fine  cataract." 

9 


II   ,11 


\  r 


PALMYRA. 


HAVE  retained  the  Grecian  name  of 
this  interesting  city,  although  the  pre- 
valence of  local  usage  still  clings  to 
the  ancient  Tadmor.  Throughout  the 
East,  from  the  oldest  times,  the  pre- 
sence of  the  palm-tree  has  ever  been 
regarded  as  a  proof  of  fertility,  es- 
'  pecially  in  distinguishing  the  small 
oases  rising  like  islands  in  the  ocean,  amidst  a  barren 
tract  of  sand,  and  gladdening  the  tired  and  thirsty 
traveller  by  the  hope  of  a  green  shade  and  fresh  water 
—two  blessings  which  all  who  have  visited  the  East 
eagerly  appreciate.  Hence  has  the  palm-tree  become 
a  favourite  subject  in  architectural  decoration,  as  in  the 
Egyptian  temples  at  Denderah  and  Luxor;  and  the 
*'  City  of  Palms"  was  a  natural  and  fitting  epithet  for 
this  grand  commercial  resort,  frequented,  in  the  days 
of  its  founder  Solomon,  by  caravans  from  all  the  leading 
cities  of  the  East.  It  must  be  remembered,  however, 
that  although  palm-trees  are  still  found  in  the  gardens 
which  environ  the  ruins  of  Palmyra,  they  are  but 
sparing  in  comparison  of  the  numbers  which  once  gave 
occasion  to  so  truly  eastern  an  epithet. 

Before  entering  upon  a  description  of  the  ruins  which 
cover  the  ground  upon  which  so  many  busy  thousands 


!cian  name  of 
hough  the  pre- 
still  clings  to 
throughout  the 
imes,  the  pre- 
has  ever  been 
f  fertility,  es- 
ing  the  small 
nidst  a  barren 
d  and  thirsty 
id  fresh  water 
ited  the  East 
n-tree  become 
itioQ,  as  in  the 
ixor;  and  the 
ng  epithet  for 
i,  in  the  days 
all  the  leading 
Jred,  however, 
n  the  gardens 
they  are  but 
rich  once  gave 

le  ruins  which 
isy  thousands 


r 


.— - 


PALMYRA. 


101 


once  trafficked,  a  glance  at  the  political  featurcB  of 
Solomon  srezgn  will  furnish  the  most  probable  notion 

led  to  Its  aggrandizement. 

With  a  character  remarkable  for  caution  rather  than 
courage,  w.th  a  «rldline»  of  diep„,i.i„„  M.U  led  him 
to  prefer  wealth  to  glory,  Solomon  wa,  fortunate  k 
..cccodmg  to  a  kingdom  which  .he  complete  .Xlnt 
vctoncs  of  h«  father  had  placed  in  a  ,tate  of  clpar. 
t.vo, county  The  circumstance,  attendant  on  1"'^ 
would  u,ater,a  ly  tend  to  keep  him  in  comparativ  s  t 
..on,  and  the  favourite  offspring  of  Bathsheba  wL  pt- 
haps  spared  any  mUitary  or  poUtical  exertion,  tfll 'th, 

study  and  a  disposition  as  yet  little  sullied  by  the 
temptation,  of  court  intrigues,  or  the  more  danTerou. 
allurements  of  idolatry,  he  found  himself  master  oTr" 
urces  which,  as  is  oftentimes  the  ca,e  with  the  labon« 
of  another  were  to  render  proverbial  the  name  of  tb" 
»au  who  had  employed  rather  .h„  .massed  tW 

0^  ,   r.fr  T      f"""  *""  "■''  B»">,heba„a  woman 
of  a  orafty  and  resolute  spirit,  who  h«I  gainei  an  influ" 

Claims  to  the  throne  seemed  more  direct,  had  a  con. 

r  Lik:  aT  "  f """«  '"^  ■»'"<■  °f  ""  f""" 

and  her  forethought  mstrucled  Solomon  in  the  probable 

wh  eh,  on«,  misdirected,  would  come  to  the  same  nrc 
»a.u«^nd  which  had  already  befallen  so  many^X 

Universal  prosperity  cheered  the  effort,  of  the  Jews, 


L= 


102 


OHKAT  ciriK.'*  or  Tin;  \\oui.n. 


and  |)(iliticlims  would  not  hv  hIow  to  derido  tlie  nlircwd, 
nionojk'-nmking  liabitrt  of  thin  iicoplo,  ovon  in  tlioir 
irtoliitod  Htato,  tip  to  tlio  proscnt  da  v,  IVom  the  lialiiis  of 
trado  uiatmt'd  hy  tlicir  intciToni'.sc  with  tlio  K;_'y[itian8 
and  Tyiians  during  tlic  rcij^n  of  this  ''mcrclnint-fove- 
rc'ign."  The  nature  of  tlio  tradio  thus  opened  has  hccn 
well  ohsorved  by  a  nntstorly  hio<^iaphe»*  of  this  prince's 
history,  allhou^h  ho  has,  ])eiliaps,  taken  too  harsh  a 
view  of  the  private  eharaeter — made  too  little  allowance 
for  Bonio  of  the  feelinps,  of  Solonicn. 

"The  ngrieulturul  tribes  enjoyed  a  soil  and  elininfo 
in  some  jiarta  eminently  fruitful,  and  in  all  richly  re- 
warding the  toil  of  irrigation  ;  so  that,  in  the  socuiity 
of  peace,  nothing  more  was  wanted  to  develope  the 
resotireea  of  tho  nation  than  nnirketa  for  its  various 
produce.  In  food  for  men  and  cattle,  in  tind)cr  and 
fruit-trees,  in  stone,  and  probably  in  the  useful  metals, 
the  land  supplied,  of  itself,  all  the  first  wants  of  its 
people  in  nbundance.  For  exportation,  it  is  distinctly 
stated  that  Avheat,  barley,  oil  and  wine,  were  in  chief 
denuuul ;  to  which  wo  nn»y  conjectnrally  add,  wool, 
hides,  and  other  raw  materials.  The  king,  undoubtedly, 
had  large  districts  and  extensive  herds  of  his  own  ;  but, 
besides  this,  be  received  presents  in  kind  from  his  own 
people,  and  from  tho  subject  nations ;  and  it  was  pos- 
sible in  this  way  to  make  demands  upon  them,  without 
severe  oppression,  to  an  extent  tliat  is  nnbcarablo  where 
taxes  must  be  paid  in  gold  or  silver,  lie  was  himself 
at  once  monarch  and  merchant;  and  wo  may,  with  much 

•  F.  W.  Nownuin,  iu  Kitto,  v.  ii.  p.  780.  Tho  only  upology  I  win  mnko 
for  UEing  so  copious  au  extract,  is  my  inubility  to  couvoy  so  much  infur- 
mation  in  a  better  mnunor. 


PALMYRA. 


108 


I'  allowanco 


confidence,   infer,   that  no   private   merchant  will  be 
allowed  to  compete  with  a  prince  who  has  assumed  the 
mercantile  character.    By  his  intimate  commercial  union 
with  the  Tyrians,  he  was  put  into  the  most  favourable 
of  all  pobitions  for  disposing  of  his  goods.     That  enor- 
getic  nation,  possessing  so  small  a  strip  of  territory, 
had  much  need  of  various  raw  produce  for  their  own 
wants.     Another  large  demand  was  made  by  them  for 
the  raw  materials  of  manufactures,  and  for  articles 
which  they  could  with  advantage  sell  again;  and  as 
they  wore  able  to  furnish  so  many  acceptable  luxuries 
to  the  court  of  Solomon,  a  most  active  exchange  soon 
commenced.     Only  second  in  importance  to  this,  and 
superior  in  fame,  was  the  commerce  of  the  Red  Sea 
which  could  not  have  been  successfully  prosecuted  with! 
out  the  aid  of  Tyrion  enterprise  and  experience.     The 
navigation  to  Sheba,  and  the  districts  beyond— whether 
of  Eastern  Arabia  or  Africa— in  spite  of  its  tediousness, 
was  highly  lucrative,  from  the  vast  diversity  of  produc- 
tions between  the  countries  so  exchanging;  while,  as  it 
was  a  trace  of  monopoly,  a  very  disproportionate  share 
of  the  whole  gain  fell  to  the  carriers  of  the  merchandize. 
The  Egyptians  were  the  only  nation  who  might  have 
been  rivals  in  the  southern  maritime  traflSc;  but  their 
religion  and  their  exclusive  principles  did  not  favour 
sea  voyages ;  and  there  is  some  reason  to  think  that, 
at  this  early  period,  they  abstained  from  sending  their 
own  people  abroad  for  commerce.     The  goods  brought 
back  from  the  south  were  chiefly  gold,  precious  stones, 
spice,  almug,  or  other  scented  woods,  and  ivory ;  all  of 
which  were  probably  so  abundant  in  their  native  regions 
as  to  be  parted  with  on  easy  terms:  and,  of  course, 


iti- 


104 


OREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


were  aU  admirably  suited  for  re-exportation  to  Enrope. 
The  carrying  trade,  which  was  thus  shared  between 
Solomon  and  the  Tyriaus,  was  probably  the  most  lucra- 
tive  part  of  the  southern  and  eastern  commerce.  How 
'  large  a  portion  of  it  went  on  by  caravans  of  camels,  is 
wholly  unknown;  yet,  that  this  branch  was  considerable, 
is  certain.  From  Egypt  Solomon  importoi  not  only 
Imen  yarn,  but  even  horses  and  chariots,  which  were 
sold  again  to  the  princes  of  Syria  and  of  the  Hittites- 
and  were  probably  prized  for  the  superior  breed  of  the 
horses,  and  for  the  light,  strong,  and  elegant  structure 
of  the  chariots.  Wine  being  abundant  in  Palestine 
and  wholly  granting  in  Egypt,  was,  no  doubt,  a  princi- 
pal  means  of  repayment." 

That  Solomon's  trading  correspondence  also  extended 
to  Babylon,  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  situation 
of  two  of  his  main  stations— Thapsacus,  on  the  Eu- 
phrates, and  the  city  we  are  now  describing.     Unfortu- 
nately,  we  are  unable  to  identify  any  of  the  ori^^inal 
architecture,  nor  has  research  brought  to  light  "any 
remains  bearing  reference  to  the  reign  of  the  great 
founder  of  Jewish  commerce.     Some  square  towers 
generally  regarded  as  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  inhabi- 
tants,  m  which  are  found  memorials  similar  to  those  of 
Egypt,  are  found  along  the  lower  eminence  of  the 
mountains  called  Jabel  Belaes,  which  border  the  ruins, 
running  nearly  north  and  south.     These  are  probably 
of  older  date  than  the  decidedly  Grecian  structures 
which  compose  the  ensemble  of  the  ruins ;  but,  taken  as 
a  whole,  the  remains  of  Palmyra  present  few  objects 
of  scriptural  interest. 
In  connection  with  the  commercial  influence  of  Pal- 


PALMYRA. 


106 


mjra  Prideaux'a  description  of  it  at  a  later  period 
18  sufficiently  instructive  to  deserve  a  place  in  these 
pages. 

"It  is  built  on  an  island  of  firm  land,  which  lies  in 
the  midst  of  a  vast  ocean  of  sand,  in  sandy  deserts  sur 
rounding  ,t  on  every  side.     Its  neighbourhood  to  the 
Euphrates  having  placed  it  in  the  confines  of  two  potent 
empires-that  of  the  Parthians  on  the  east,  anS  that 
of  the  Romans  on  the  west-it  happened  often  that,  in 
times  of  war,  they  were  ground  between  both.     But 
in  times  of  peace,  they  made  '  .msel  ves  sufficient  amends 
by  their  commerce  with  c.a  of  them,  and  the  great 
nches  which  they  gained  thereby.     For  the  caravans 
from  Persia  and  India,  which  now  unload  at  Aleppo 
did  in  those  times  unload  at  Palmyra,  and  from  thence 
the  eastern  commodities,  which  came  overland,  beidij 
earned  to  the  next  ports  on  the  Mediterranean,  were 
from  thence  transmitted  into  the  west,  and  the  western 
commodities  being  through  tl.  same  way  brought  from 
the  said  ports  to  the  city,  were  there  laden  on  the  same 
caravans,  and,  on  their  return,  carried  back  and  dis- 
persed  oyer  all  the  East.     So  that  as  Tyre,  and  after- 
wards  Alexandria,  were  the  chief  marts  for  the  eastern 
trade  that  was  carried  on  by  sea.  Palmyra  was  for  some 
time  the  chief  mart  for  so  much  of  that  trade  as  was 
carried  on  by  land."  ^ 

I  have  before  observed  that  we  find  but  few  remains 
that  belong  to  the  era  of  the  early  glory  of  Palmyra. 
Even  as  early  as  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Trajan,  it 
was  lying  waste,  but  was  rebuilt,  under  the  name  of 
Adnanopohs,  by  his  successor  Adrian.  Under  Cara- 
calla  It  obtained  the  privileges  of  a  Roman  colony. 


106 


GREAT   CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


During  the  weak  and  fast  failing  condition  of  the  Roman 
empire,  which  ensued  under  Galenius  and  Valerian,  when 
provinces  and  colonies  were  fast  asserting  their  inde* 
pendence  of  the  mother  city,  Odenatus  became  master 
of  Palmyra,  and  of  the  whole  territory  of  Mesopotamia. 
He  boldly  assumed  the  title  of  king,  and,  at  his  death, 
his  queen  Zenobia  became  mistress  of  most  of  the  east- 
ern provinces  of  the  Roman  empire. 

Zenobia  was  a  wonderful  woman.  Shrewd,  vigilant, 
and  persevering,  she  was  equally  renowned  for  her 
learning  p.nd  her  political  abilities.  Whilst,  like  Lady 
Jane  Grey,  she  gave  her  private  moments  to  the  study 
of  Greek,  and  probably  of  the  sciences  of  eloquence 
and  criticism,  under  the  judicious  Longinus,  she  dis- 
played the  energy  of  an  Elizabeth  in  her  regular  atten- 
dance at  the  council-chamber,  and  in  her  admirable 
arrangements  for  the  defence  and  consolidation  of  her 
vast  power.  But  her  abilities  failed  to  withstand  the 
exertions  of  Aurelian,  who  vanquished  the  Amazon-like 
queen,  and  led  her  in  triumph  to  Rome,  leaving  the 
depopulated  and  ruined  city  as  an  evidence  of  his 
prowess.  Subsequently — perhaps  out  of  compliment 
to  the  bravery  and  skill  of  Zenobia-- he  ordered  the 
Temple  o*  the  Sun  to  be  restored,  garrisoned  the  town, 
and  appointed  a  deputy  over  the  surrounding  district. 
Subsequent  emperors  contributed  variously  to  the 
restoration  and  adornment  of  the  city,  but  in  a.  d.  744, 
it  was  taken  by  the  Khalif  ^erwan,  after  an  obstinate 
resistance  of  seven  months,  and  its  decay  gradually  set 
in.  When  Benjamin  of  Tudela  visited  the  place,  it 
contained  *'  2,000  warlike  Jews,  who  were  at  war  with 
the    Christians,   and  with    the   Arabian   subjects   of 


PALMTBA. 


lOT 


N'oureddin."    In  a.  d.  1400,  it  was  pUIaged  by  the 
trmy  of  Tamerlane. 

"  The  ruins  cover  a  sandy  plain,  stretching  along  the 
oasis  of  a  range  of  mountains  called  Jebel  Belaes, 
funning  nearly  north  and  south,  dividing  the  great 
desert  from  the   desert  plains,  extending  westwards 
towards  Damascus,  and  the  north  of  Syria.     The  lower 
eminences  of  these  mountains,  bordering  the  ruins,  are 
covered  with  numerous  solitary  square  towers,  the  tombs 
of  the  ancient  Palmyrenes,  in  which  are  found  me- 
morials similar  to  those  of  Egypt.     They  are  sera  to 
a  great  distance,  and  have  a  striking  effect  in  this 
desert  solitude.     Beyond  the  valley  which  leads  through 
these  hills,  the  ruined  city  first  opens  upon  the  view. 
The  thousands  of  Corinthian  columns  of  white  marble 
erect  and  fallen,  and  covering  an  extent  of  about  a 
mile  and  a  half,  present  an  appearance  which  travellers 
compare  to  that  of  a  forest.     The  site  on  which  the  city 
stands  is  slightly  elevated  above  the  level  of  the  sur- 
rounding desert  for  a  circumference  of  about  ten  miles, 
which  the  Arabs  believe  to  coincide  with  the  extent  of 
the  ancient  city,  as  they  find  ancient  remains  whenever 
they  dig  within  this  space.     There  are,  indeed,  traces 
of  an  old  wall,  not  more  than  three  miles  in  circum- 
ference, but  this  was  probably  built  by  Justinian,  at  a 
time  when  Palmyra  had  lost  its  ancient  importance, 
and  become  a  desolate  place,  and  when  it  was  conse- 
quently desirable  to  contract  its  bounds  so  as  to  include 
only  the  more  valuable  portion.     Volney  well  describes 
the  general  aspect  which  these  ruins  present :— '  In  the 
space  covered  by  these  ruins  we  sometimes  find  a  palace, 
of  which  nothing  remains  but  the  court  and  walls; 


106 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


sometimes  a  temple,  whose  peristyle  is  half  thrown 
down;  and  now  a  portico,  a  gallery,  or  triumphal  arch. 
Here  stand  groups  of  columns,  whose  symmetry  is  de- 
Bfaroyed  by  the  fall  of  many  of  them;  there  we  see 
them  ranged  in  rows  of  such  length,  that,  similar  to 
rows  of  trees,  they  deceire  the  sight,  and  assume  the 
appearance  of  continued  walls.     If,  from  this  striking 
scene,  we  cast  our  eyes  upon  the  ground,  another, 
almost  as  varied,  presents  itself:  on  all  sides  we  behold 
nothing  but  subverted  shafts,  some  whole,  others  shat- 
tered to  pieces,  or  dislocated  in  their  joints;  and  on 
which  side  soever  we  look,  the  earth  is  strewed  with 
vast  stones,  half  buried,  with  broken  entablatures, 
mutilated  friezes,  disfigured  reliefs,  effaced  sculptures, 
viokted  tombs,  and  altars  defiled  by  dust.' " 

Recent  travellers,  however,  are  much  less  glowing 
in  their  encomiums  of  the  beauty  of  the  ruins  of  Pal- 
myra.    Whilst  allowing  the  grandeur  of  the  general 
eflfect,  they  complain  of  great  deficiency  in  the  propor- 
tion and  finish  of  the  details.    It  must,  however,  be 
remembered,  that  the  colossal  grandeur  of  an  original 
design  may  have  been  impoverished  by  the  alterations 
of  subsequent  ages,  and  that  the  degeneracy  in  art, 
which  characterized  the  decMning  era  of  Rome,  has 
probably  left  marks  of  its  oflicions  interference  with  the 
works  of  a  more  refined  and  sober  school  of  art. 
Whilst  the  name  has  been  scrupulously  preserved,  not 
a  vestige  remains  of  the  old  city  of  Solomon, 


tl 


half  thrown 
tmpbal  arch, 
netry  is  de- 
bere  wo  see 
•f  similar  to 
assumo  the 
'his  striking 
d,  another, 
IS  we  behold 
others  shat- 
tts;  and  on 
trewed  with 
itablatnres, 
sculptures, 

•8  glowing 
ins  of  Pal- 
he  general 
the  propor- 
Jwever,  be 
ID  original 
alterations 
cy  in  art, 
Rome,  has 
:e  with  the 
ol  of  art. 
lerved,  not 


BAALBEK   OR  BAAtGAD. 

T  happens,  ur, fortunately  for  the 
antiquarian,  that,  whilst   «o  pos- 
eess  the  most  complete  descripticns 
and   details    of    the   magnificent 
ruins  which  attest  the  ancient  lux- 
ury and  wealth  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Baalbek,  we  possess  scarcely 
any  information  respectir..^  their 
^'''^'^U'     It  is  next  to  impossible 
to  behevc   that   they  are   purely   of  lloman   onVin 
although  we  have  authority  for  assigning  a  portion  of 
them  to  the  liberality  of  Antoninus  Pius.    It  is  ponsible 
that  th.s  emperor  may  have  restored,  augmented,  or 
altered  structures  already  existing;  and  other  autho- 
rities sechi  to  prove  that  Baalbek  was  always  regarded 
as  a  place  of  importance  utider  the  emperors.     But  of 
Its  earlier  history,  of  its  connection  with  primitive  East- 
em  nations,  and  its  relation  to  their  mythology  and 
superstitions,  we  possess  nothing  but  vague  conjectures 
founded  upon  inadequate  and  unsatisfactory  data 

"The  town  of  Baalbek  is  now  almost  a  complete 
rum,  with  the  walls  which  surrounded  it,  of  an  irrecu- 
lar  quadrangle  in  form,  fallen  in  many  places,  and  the 
inhabited  abodes  being  of  a  most  wretched  character. 
Immense  quantities  of  hewn  stone  and  fragments  of 
pillars,  both  of  the  common  rock  of  the  country,  are 
strewn  about  in  all  directions.    The  eye  of  the  traveller, 


112 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


however,  does  not  rest  on  their  prostration  and  confu- 
sion, and  the  filth  with  which  they  are  associated.  It 
sees,  standing  up  in  majesty  amidst  the  apocryphal 
Saracenic  and  Turkish  towers  and  walls  of  the  fort, 
the  proudest  and  grandest  memorials  of  human  archi- 
tecture on  which  it  has  ever  rested :  and  it  scans  with 
wonder  and  astonishment  the  remains  of  the  temples, 
and  their  courts  and  colonnades,  of  Heliopolis.  The 
ruins  are  those  of  a  greater  and  lesser  temple.  The 
sub-basement  of  both  the  temples  is  artificial,  to  give 
them  a  superior  elevation ;  and  the  court  of  the  larger, 
in  particular,  is  principally  on  arched  vaults,  to  some 
of  which  access  can  now  be  got.  The  peristyles  of  the 
temples  stand  on  strong  masonry ;  but  this  it  has  been 
intended  to  conceal  by  facings  of  stone,  or  rather  rock, 
of  the  most  prodigious  size  ever  used  in  architecture, 
as  is  evident  at  the  western  and  northern  ends  of  the 
great  temple.  The  enormity  of  some  of  the  stones  of 
the  facing  has  been  often  brought  to  notice.  One 
stone,  in  the  western  wall — overlooked  both  by  Maun- 
drell,  and  Wood,  and  Dawkins,  probably  because 
irregularly  cut  in  the  outer  surface,  though  of  an 
undivided  mass— is  sixty-nine  feet  in  length,  thirteen 
in  depth,  and  eighteen  in  breadth,  affording  altogether 
a  block  of  raised  rock— to  give  it  in  letters— of  sixteen 
thousand  one  hundred  and  forty-six  cubic  feet.  The 
fellow  of  this  stone  is  left  nearly  ready  cut  in  the 
quarry,  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  south  of 
the  town,  to  challenge  posterity  to  come  up  to  the 
deeds  of  ancestry  by  removing  it  from  its  position. 
Above  the  stone  in  the  sub-basement  now  alluded  to, 
there  ar«  other  thro*  ©f  «normouB  dimensions,  forming  its 


BAALBEK,   OR   BAAL-OAD.  I13 

•econd  elevation,  of  which  Wood  and  Dawkin,  Bay, 
that  they  found  the  length  to  make  together  above  a 

feet  e  gb  anches,  euty-four  feet,  and  sixty-three  feet. 
Cut  let  us  return  agam  to  our  plan.  We  have,  begin- 
ning with  the  east,  a  staircase,  leading  up  to  a  Jnd 
portico  with  chambers  on  each  side.'  fL  L'por- 
tico  the  entrance  must  have  been  by  a  large  and  two 

h  tie  chambers  and  niches  for  idols,  the  pedestals  of 
v»h.ch,  in  many  instances,  still   remain.     From    this 
court,  the  entrance  is  into  a  large  quadrangular  court, 
with  similar  conveniences.     Passing  this  second  court 
we  are  at  the  large  temple,  properly  so  called.     It 
remains    m  addition  to  its  lower  works,  consist  of  a 
olonnade  of  six  Corinthian  pillars  of  majestic  size,  and 
bearing  a  rich  entablature,  forming  altogether  ob  ects 
of  enchanting  architectural   beauty,  w'h  looking 
which  the  eye  is  never  satisfied.     These  columns  be- 
ong  to  the  flank  of  the  temple,  the  original  number 
having  been  nineteen,  while  there  were  fen  in  f^ont 
The  bases  and  pedestals  of  the  others  are  in  2 
places     A  number  of  the  shafts  are  strewn  abou 
generally  with  the  three  pieces  of  which  they  ^re 
composed  separated  from  one  another.     The  hefght  of 
bese  pillars,  including  the  architrave,  we  found  to  be 
eventy-five  feet  ten  inches.     Their  diameter,  taking 

s  severrt  '^-T  *'^  '••^'  ^^^  «--d  atones! 
IS  seven  fee    three  inches.     Their  distance  from  one 

nether  is  eight  feet  seven  inches.     The  tempt  cer 

tanly  was  never   finished.      The  ruins   of   Baalbek 

astonish  every  visitant.    Their  great  delineator:,lho 

10* 


114 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


took  only  an  artistic  view  of  them,  say: — 'When  we 
compare  them  with  tho^e  of  many  ancient  cities  which 
we  visited  in  Italy,  Greece,  Egypt,  and  other  parts  of 
Asia,  we  cannot  help  thinking  them  the  boldest  plan 
we  ever  saw  attempted  in  architecture.'  Speaking 
even  of  the  smaller  temple,  Maundrell  says : — '  It 
strikes  the  mind  with  an  air  of  greatness  beyond  any- 
thing that  I  ever  saw  before,  and  is  an  eminent  proof 
of  the  magnificence  of  the  ancient  architecture.'  Less 
grave  and  sober  travellers  have  written  of  them  with 
unbounded  rapture.  Lord  Lindsay  says: — 'Palmyra 
at  snnrise  and  Baalbek  at  sunset,  are  Claudes  trea- 
sured in  the  cabinet  of  memory,  which  neither  accident 
can  injure,  nor  beggary  deprive  one  of.'  " 

A  French  writer  has  remarked,  that  the  present  ap- 
pearance of  the  ruins  of  Baalbek  exhibits  a  remarkable 
instance  of  the  destructive  effects  of  vegetation  blossom- 
ing upon  the  ruins,  and  seeming  to  sport  in  the  desola- 
tion that  gives  it  birth.  The  ideas  that  suggested  the 
simple  but  touching  ballad  of  the  "  Ivy  Green"  to 
Charles  Dickens,  are  but  a  more  familiar,  though  less 
classical,  appeal  to  the  same  feelings  that  are  called 
forth  by  a  glance  at  the  "nature  that  has  done  her 
work  of  destruction ;  that  has  stretched  forth  the  living 
ivies ;  that  have  disjointed  walls  of  the  utmost  solidity  ; 
has  sown  the  pillitory  that  creeps  about  the  archi- 
tectural ornaments;  has  pressed  down  pilasters  with 
dense  clusters  of  nopal,  and  broken  through  ceilings 
with  the  towering  heads  of  the  sycamore." 

Travellers  concur  in  bearing  testimony  to  the  supe- 
riority of  the  architecture  of  Baalbek  over  that  of 
Palmyra ;  but  Addison,  a  judicious  but  somewhat  over- 


BAALBEK,    Oil   BAAL-GAD. 


116 


critical  traveller,  considers  that  "the  ruins,  though  so 
striking  anrl  magnific.ent,  are  yet,  however,  quite  second- 
rate  when  compared  with  the  Athenian  ruins,  and  dig- 
play  m  their  decoration  none  of  the  bold  conceptions 
and  the  genius  which  characterize  the  Athenian  arehi- 
tecture. 

It  i8,  perhaps  to  be  wished  that  comparisons  with 
works  eonfesse<lly  belonging  to  the  highest  and  most 
advanced  school  of  Grecian  art,  were  less  frequently 
made  incnt.csing  the  productions  of  an  uncertain  era; 
especmlly  when  we  have  insufficient  data  as  to  how  far 
the  b  ending  of  the  workmanship  of  ages  far  distant 
may  have  desuoyed  the  vigour  and  grandeur  of  the 
original  design,  without  supplying  the  deficiency  with 
adequate  finish  of  decoration,  according  to  a  more  mo- 
dern rule  of  taste.     The  buildings  at  Baalbek  perhaps 
suffer  m  this  respect,  as  much  from  the  exaggerations 
of  some  of  their  visitors,  as  from  a  too  criticaftaste  for 
comparisons  on  the  part  of  others.     Nevertheless,  so 
favourable  is  the  general  impression  of  the  bold  subli- 
mity displayed  m  at  least  a  large  portion  of  the  present 
remains,  that  we  will  venture  to  try  our  reader's  patience 
with^another  quotation  from  the  lively  pen  of  Castle- 

;'I  can  add  nothing  to  the  tributes  that  have  been 

paid  to  their  magnificence,  except  the  testimony  of  one 

.esh  from  all  the  wonders  of  Egypt,  and  the  fairy 

cnTT  ;?'';''  "'^'  — *h«^^B«  ^as  amazed  and 

enchanted  by  the  splendour  of  Baalbek.     Here  the 

ravel  er  finds  all  the  vastness  of  conception  and  execu! 

tion  belonging  to  the  Egyptian  school,  ornamented 


r 


116 


GREAT  CtriES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


by  tht)  richest  and  most  cluborate  sculpture  of  a  later 
age. 

"Nothing  caa  "rpass  the  friezes  and  cornices  of  the 
smaller  temple.  The  door  of  entrance,  as  n  piece  of 
workmanship,  excels  all  that  even  imperial  Rome  can 
boast  of.  The  whole  area  of  these  edifices  is  covered 
with  prostrate  columns  and  their  capitals.  The  stone 
is  very  hard,  and  the  cutting  as  fine  as  it  is  possible  to 
conceive.  But  wherever  the  eye  wanders  among  the 
ruins,  it  involuntarily  turns  to  the  magnificent  Sextuor, 
which  rises,  like  the  personification  of  strength  and 
beauty,  as  if  it  stood  there  to  bo  worshipped  as  the 
deity  of  the  place. 

"  But  it  is  painful  to  behold  the  destruction  that  time 
and  man  have  worKcd ;  many  are  the  changes  which 
the  temples  have  undergone  since  they  were  sacred  to 
the  idols  of  Baal ;  for  Baalbek  has  been  turned  into  a 
fortress,  and  bastions  and  batteries  have  been  erected 
among  her  colonnades  and  porticos.  These,  again,  are 
gone,  and  with  them  a  mosque  which  had  been  built  in 
the  midst  of  the  walls ;  but  many  a  fragment  on  which 
the  richest  sculpture  is  portrayed  is  recognised  amidst 
the  rough  execution  of  modern  Vandals,  who  broke 
down  pillar  and  capital,  frieze  and  bas-relief,  to  con- 
struct a  wretched  mosque,  and  make  a  fortification  that 
was  useless. 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  guess  at  the  history  of  Baal- 
bek. But  it  is  clear  that  its  foundatioiis  arl  origin  are 
of  the  earliest  dale.  How  far,  and  at  wb  t  ■^'■v.ie,  the 
Roman  brought  his  taste  and  skill  lo  b'ju,v  upon  what 
he  discovered  here,  I  know  not ;  but  the  temples  would 
appear  cotemporaneous  with,  or  very  little  younger 


'^1 


of  a  litter 

ices  of  the 
I  piece  of 
Rome  can 
is  covered 
The  stone 
posaible  to 
nuong  the 
t  Sextuor, 
mgth  and 
cd  as  the 

I  that  time 
ges  which 
sacred  to 
led  into  a 
en  erected 
again,  are 
en  built  in 
;  on  which 
led  amidst 
vho  broke 
;f,  to  con- 
ation that 

J  of  Baal- 
arigin  are 
^  iue,  the 
ipon  what; 
lies  would 
>  younger 


i ' '  I 


I 


CIECULAR  TEMI'LK  AT  BAaLBEC, 


STaasjiMWiaag.— -.T.i3nnrrr-i-(ssg3a.:  :j'j:::riyg:n  ji,-ij^tiaug-  I 


BAALBEK,    OR   BAAL-OAD 


119 


than  Karnac  and  Luxor ;  all,  however,  is  lost  in  mys- 
tery,  for  the  traces  of  their  history  cannot  be  followed 
out,  and  the  confusion  that  prevails  among  all  the  rem- 
nants of  these  mighty  edifices  renders  it  impossible  even 
to  guess  at  the  chain  of  vicissitudes  which  reduced  them 
to  their  present  state. 

"It  is  doubtful  whether  there  is  anything  in  the 
world,  taking  it  as  a  whole,  more  imposing  than  the 
colonnade  of  Baalbek  with  the  six  pillars  rising  oppo- 
site to  It.  It  is  true  that  the  gigantic  proportions 
and  extent  of  Karnac  are  wanting;  but  Karnac,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  without  the  elaborate  sculptures  and 
ornament  of  JJaalbelc. 

"Tliere  i,s  a  small  circular  temple,  or  more  probably 
a  tomb,  near  a  fountain,  almost  covered  by  a  weeping- 
willow.  We  saw,  also,  a  building,  with  granite  eo- 
lumns,  contammg  a  sarcophagus,  but  they  were  all  in 
ruins." 

It  is  not  impossible  that  a  portion  of  the  splendi.l 
bmldmgs  at  Baalbek,  may  have  been  appropriated  to 
purposes  of  Christian  worship.     This  perhaps  arrested 
the  progress  of  decay  for  some  time  after  the  age  of 
UnsUmtme,  as  the  accounts  of  oriental  writers  assert 
that  Baalbek  continued  a  place  of  considerable  import 
ance  down  to  the  time  of  the  Moslem  invasion  of  Syria  • 
and,  m  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Ileraclius,  it  was  looked 
upon  as  a  strong  citadel,  well  calculated  to  withstand  a 
Biege.     Notwithstanding,  however,  a  sturdy  resistance, 
It  was  forced  to  submit  to  the  conqueror;  and  the  rich 
ransom  exacted  by  the  avarice  of  the  conqueror,  is  a 
satisfactory  evidence  of  its  commercial  wealth.     Whilst 
gradually  recovering  from  this  attack,  it  received  a 


120 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


rude  blow  from  the  Khalif  of  its  powerful  neighbour, 
Damascus ;  not  only  was  the  city  pillaged  and  thrown 
into  ruins,  but  a  cruel  massacre  of  the  principal  inhabi- 
tants made  Baalbek  a  place  of  mourning. 

During  the  Crusades  but  little  mention  of  Baalbek 
appears ;  but  it  is  probable  that,  if  this  city  still  re- 
tained any  Christian  population,  this  circumstance  may 
have  aroused  the  spirit  of  persecution,  and  tended  to 
promote  the  work  of  desolation  that  had  already  com- 
menced. It  appears  no  longer  as  an  active  agent  in 
the  scene  of  the  world's  action,  and  little  as  we  know 
of  its  previous  influence  upon  the  vast  scheme  of  human 
progress,  we  trace,  in  its  subjection  first  to  ignorant 
and  marauding  tribes,  and  subsequently  to  the  moie 
refined  but  equally  ignorant  bigotry  of  the  Turkish 
nation,  evidences  of  the  sad  wear  and  tear  of  nations — 
of  that  mysterious  yet  calculating  influence  which  has 
reduced  the  once  magnificent  "  City  of  the  Sun"  to  a 
wretched  village  of  mud-houses.  Even  the  fruitfulness 
of  nature  has  deserted  it,  and  the  grapes  and  the  pome- 
granates, once  S3  abundant,  are  sought  for  in  vain. 


1 


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BUM!  OP  ITUE  Br  ALEXAXDER  TUB  GREAT. 


TYRE. 

HE  history  of  this  ancient 
"  mart  of  nations"  is  so 
closely  connected  with 
the  history  of  Solomon's 
reign,  that  I  must  en 
•       .    ,      ,  .,  treat  my  reader  to  bear 

m  mmd,  while  reading  the  present  article,  the  sketch 
just  given  of  that  prince's  political  character,  especially 
in  commercial  relations.  ^ 

Ts,?!^'T"'^  ??"  '^  '^''  ^''''  ''^'y  ''■''  Ts6r  or 
isiir,  the  Sarra  of  the  Latins,  a  name  vhich  it  probably 


^-ii 


124 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


derived  from  having  been  at  first  founded  on  a  rocky 
Bite,  for  purposes  of  defence.  Its  original  position  was 
on  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  about  mid- 
way between  Egypt  and  Asia  Minor,  and  near  th<? 
north-western  frontier  of  Palestine.  As  it  was  a  colony 
of  Zidon,  it  is  styled,  in  the  poetical  language  of  pro- 
phecy, the  "  daughter  of  Zidon,"  which  was  evidently 
a  more  ancient  city,  although  chiefly  known  through 
its  participation  in  the  sins  of  idolatry  which,  in  Scrip- 
ture, connect  its  name  with  its  wealthy  and  powerful 
colony.  Prideaux  places  its  foundation  by  the  Zidon- 
ians  two  hundred  and  forty  years  before  the  building 
of  Solomon's  temple,  observing  that  '« it  soon  outgrew 
its  mother  in  largeness,  riches,  and  power." 

At  a  very  early  period,  we  find  the  Tyrians  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  resources,  and  with  such  adequate 
capabilities  of  using  them,  that  David  resorted  to  their 
king,  Hiram,  for  assistance  in  realising  the  grand  de- 
sign of  his  whole  life,  the  "house"  for  the  Lord,  which 
his  successor  was,  however,  destined  to  finish.  The 
hewing,  and  probably  the  carving  of  timber,  and  "  cun- 
ning to  work  all  works  in  brass,"  were  the  qualifications 
chiefly  in  request,  but  if  we  turn  to  the  pages  of  pro- 
phecy, it  will  be  difficult  to  suggest  any  luxury  or  refine- 
ment of  life,  which  the  advanced  state  of  Tyrian  art  and 
commerce  did  not  enable  it  to  furnish. 

As  the  sublimest  picture  of  an  ancient  city,  revelling 
in  wealth  and  iniquity,  even  while  the  finger  of  God's 
wrath  was  pointed  against  it,  and  while  his  judgment 
was  but  suspending  its  blow,  I  cannot  avoid  quoting 
the  burden  of  Ezekiel  in  "  lamentation  for  Tyre :"  *— 

*  Ezek.  xxvii.  2,  sqq. 


TYRE, 


125 


''0  thou  that  art  situate  at  the  entry  of  the  »„« 

rt,oh  art  a  merchant  of  the  people  for  manylLrC 

™th  the  Lord  God;  0  Tyrua,  thou  ha,t^  a     'l  a" 

of  perfect  heaulj.    Thy  hordor,  are  in  the  midst  of 

he  seas  thy  uilders  have  perfected  thy  beauty     They 

have  made  all  thy  .hip-boards  of  fir-trees  of  Sen,  ^ 

or'her  Of .?  "fVr  """"^  '»  "«'■«  -   ' 
IX  '  °'  ^'^'"'"  '""'«  *«y  ■»«'io  thine 

oars;  the  company  of  the  Ashurites  have  made  thy 
benches  of  .very  brought  out  of  the  isles  of  Ch  t.  m 
F  no  hnen,  ;„th  broidered  work  from  Egypt,  was  tW 
rt,ch  thou  spreadest  forth  to  be  thy  sdl;  bLe  and 

thee.    The  mhabitants  of  Zidon  and  Arvad  were  thv 
marmers;  thy  wise  men,  0  Tyrus,  that  were  r  bef 
wore  thy  p,  ots.     The  ancients  of  Gobal,  and  the  wS 
men  tbcreo  ,  were  in  thee  thy  calkers;  all  the  X^'t 
the  sea,  w.th  the.r  mariners,  were  in  thee  to  occupy  thy 
merchandise.    They  of  Persia,  and  of  Lud,  and  of  PhuT 
were  m  tbme  army,  thy  m,n  of  war,  they  hanged  the 
hieldandhelmet  in  thee;  they  set  forth' thy !„;£! 
ness.    The  men  of  Arvad,  with  thine  army,  were  upon 
t  7  walls  round  about,  and  the  Gammadts  were  In 
thy  towers;  they  hanged  their  shields  upon  thy  walls 
round   about;   they  have   made   thy   beauty  p^er^ 

llv      .  .       J'°^'''  '""■  ''''"■•'  '"•"■  '».  and  lead, 

ley  we're  tb"     '  'f"     ''™"'  ^"'•"''  ""'^  M-hech 
Iheywere  thy  merchants ;  they  traded  the  persons  of 

men  and  vessels  of  brass  in  thy  market.    They  of  the 

.use  of  Togarmah  traded  in  thy  fairs  with  horis  and 

horsemen  and  mules.    The  men  of  Dadan  were  thy 


126 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


merchants :  many  isles  were  the  merchandise  of  thy 
hand ;  they  brought  theo  for  a  present  horns  of  ivory 
and  ebony.  Syria  was  thy  mcrchiuit  by  reason  of  the 
multitude  of  the  wares  of  thy  making ;  they  occupied 
in  thy  fairs  with  emeralds,  purple,  and  broidcred  work, 
and  fine  linen  and  coral,  and  agate. 

"  Judah,  and  the  land  of  Israel,  they  were  thy  mer- 
chants :  they  traded  in  thy  market  wheat  of  Minnith, 
and  Pannag,  and  honey,  and  oil,  and  balm.  Damascus 
was  thy  merchant  in  the  multitude  of  the  wares  of  thy 
making,  for  the  multitude  of  all  riches  ;  in  the  wine  of 
Ilelbon,  and  white  wool.  Dan  also  and  Javan  going 
to  and  fro  occupied  in  thy  fairs :  bright  iron,  cassia, 
calamus,  were  in  thy  market.  Dedan  was  thy  mer- 
chant in  precious  clothes  for  chariots.  Arabia,  and  all 
the  princes  of  Kedar,  they  occupied  with  thee  in  lambs, 
and  rams,  and  goats ;  in  these  Avere  they  thy  merchants. 
The  merchants  of  Sheba  and  Eaamah,  they  were  thy 
merchants :  they  occupied  in  thy  fairs  with  chief  of  all 
spices,  and  with  all  precious  stones,  and  gold.  Haram, 
and  Canneh,  and  Eden ;  the  merchants  of  Sheba, 
Assher,  and  Chilmad,  were  thy  merchants  in  all  sorts 
of  things,  in  blue  clothes,  and  broidered  work,  and  in 
chests  of  rich  apparel,  bound  -with  cords,  and  made  of 
cedar,  among  thy  merchandise.  The  ships  of  Tarshish 
did  sing  of  thee  in  thy  market :  and  thou  wast  re- 
plenished, and  made  very  glorious  in  the  midst  of  the 
seas. 

"Thy  rowers  have  brought  thee  into  great  waters: 
the  east  wind  hath  broken  thee  in  the  midst  of  the  seas. 
Thy  riches,  and  thy  fairs,  thy  merchandise,  thy  mari- 
ners, and  thy  pilots,  thy  calkers,  and  the  occupiers  of 


TYRE.  127 

tby  merchandise,  and  all  thy  men-of-war,  that  are  in 
thee,  and  ni  all  thy  company  which  is  in  the  midst  of 
thee,  shall  fall  in  the  midst  of  the  seas  in  the  day  of 
rum      The  suburbs  shall  shake  at  the  sound  of  the  cr/ 
of  thy  pilots.     And  all  that  handle  the  oar,  the  mariners, 
and  all  the  pilots  of  the  sea,  shall  come  down  from  their 
ships,  they  shall  stand  upon  the  land ;  and  shall  cause 
their  voice  to  be  heard  against  thee,  and  shall  cry  bit- 
ter  y,  and  shall  cast  up  dust  upon  their  heads,  they  shall 
wallow  themselves  in  the  ashes.     And  they  shall  make 
themselves  utterly  bald  for  thee,  and  gird  them  with 
sackcloth,  and  they  shall  weep  for  thee  with  bitterness 
of  heart  and  bitter  wailing.     And  in  their  wailing  they 
shall  take  up  a  lamentation  for  thee,  and  lament  over 
thee  saying,  Who^  city  is  like  Tyrus,  like  the  destroyed 
m  the  midst  of  the  sea  ?     When  thy  wares  went  forth 
out  of  the  seas,  thou  filledst  many  people;  thou  didst 
enrich  the  kings  of  the  earth  with  the  multitude  of  thy 
riches  and  of  tliy  merchandise.     In  the  time  when  thou 
Shalt  be  broken  by  the  seas  in  the  depths  of  the  waters, 
thy  merchandise  and  all  thy  company  in  the  midst  of 
thee  shall  fall.     All  the  inhabitants  of  the  isles  shall 
be  sore  afraid,  they  shall  be  troubled  in  their  counte- 
nance.     The  merchants  among  the  people  shall  hiss  at 
thee;  thou  shalt  be  a  terror  and  never  shall  be  any 
more.  ^ 

It  is  useless  to  attempt  description  after  language  so 
graphic,  so  vivid  in  its  colouring,  so  minute  in  its 
details:  not  only  are  the  means  of  wealth  distinctly 
stated,  but  we  are  also  informed  whence  they  were  de- 
nved.  Before  the  ivory  thrones,  on  which  the  elders 
ot  lyre  sat,  the  nations  of  the  whole  earth  displayed 


128 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLB. 


their  treasures,  sought  their  aid  and  patronage,  and 
courted  approbution. 

But  the  otlicr  side  of  the  picture  equally  claims  our 
contemplation,  and  for  sadder  and  more  solemn  reasons. 
It  is  a  melancholy  reflection,  that  the  arts  by  which 
man's  wants  are  satisfied — by  which,  in  fact,  new  desires 
are  created,  and  new  sources  of  gratification  opened  to 
the  eager  mind  of  man — that  these  arts,  which  set  forth 
the  progress  of  ripening  humanity,  and  make  mtm  the 
undisputed  lord  of  the  lower  classes  of  created  'uir.gs, 
should  be  so  often  the  means  of  corrupting  tlui  best 
feelings,  and  perverting  even  their  own  porfect'on  to 
purposes  of  evil.  As  with  the  polished  civilization  of 
other  older  cities  of  the  eastern  world,  so  was  it  ■with 
Tyre.  Ti»e  same  hands  that  wrought  the  delicate  vest- 
ments in  which  her  kings  sat  as  they  gave  judgment, 
also  hung  the  tapestries  that  decked  the  temples  of  the 
Zidonian  idols.  The  same  cunninj:;  .vorkmanship  that 
once  wrought  the  brazen  decorations  of  a  temple  to  the 
true  and  only  God,  formed  senseless  idols.  As  the 
Israelites  in  the  desert  perverted  their  knowledge  of 
Egyptian  art  to  presumptuous  imitations  of  the  God 
whom  their  faithlessness  supposed  was  lost  to  them,  so 
did  the  Tyrians  persist  in  following  the  corrupt  practices 
of  their  ancestors,  till  God's  wrath  burst  forth,  and 
conqueror  upon  conqueror  arose  to  punish  the  presump- 
tion of  the  city  to  which  Ezekiel  had  said : — "  Thine 
heart  was  lifted  up  b^jcause  of  my  beauty ;  thou  hast 
corrupted  thy  wisdom  by  reason  of  thy  brightness: 
thou  hast  defiled  thy  sanctuaries  by  the  multitude  of 
thine  iniquities,  by  the  iniquity  of  thy  traffic;  where- 
fore will  I  bring  forth  a  fire  from  the  midst  of  thee,  it 


TYRE. 


129 


shall  devour  theo;  and  I  will  bring  thee  to  ashes  upon 
the  earth,  m  the  sight  of  all  them  that  behold  thee  " 

1  he  first  important  enemy  who  socras  to  have  at- 
tempted to  subdue  the  haughty  Ty.ians  was  Shnlma- 
noser.      Some   maritime   towns,    which    had    hitherto 
preserved  thoir  fidelity  to  Tyre,  revolted  to  thin  prince, 
^vho,  encourage<l   by   their  defection,   and   led   on   by 
cup.d.ty,  joined   battle  with    them   at  sea.     But   the 
iymns  although  they  presented  a  small  armament  of 
twelve  ships  to  fight  against  the  joint  fleet  of  the  Assy- 
mns  and  Phoenician.,  which  numbered  sixty,  came  off 
victorious,  and  Shal.nanoser  retii.d  in  disgust,  leavincr 
an  army  to  blockarle  the  city.    In  vain  did  they  cue  off 
the  supplies  of  water  f,„-nished  by  the  aqueducts;  tho 
persevering  Tyrians  dug  deep  wells,  by  which   they 
compensated  for  the  deficiency,  and  after'  thus  holding 
out  five  years,  the  death  of  Shalmnneser  relieved  them 
irom  tear.* 

l-hM  «ith  .l,e  glovy  of  living  .„c«»f„lly  ,vith- 
etoo,I  the  .mglmest  king  „f  ,l,e  E„„,  .1,3  l>ri..,n,,  „s  ha, 
be,  „I1  „b,ervcd,  "f„,.  .  .i,„e  fUyei  a  part  in  the 
an  u.„t  ..„,.1,1,  ,U  ,l,„t  ,vhicl,  Voni.o  playrf  in  tl,o 
m..Uo  age,  E.cl,  „,  insula.,  colonial,  .nd  conti! 
nen.i-,ta  borders  in  the  midst  of  tho  seas-the  build- 
er,  h„.l  perfoctod  its  beauty-every  precious  stone  was 
s  covering.  Each  «3  not  only  commercial  and  opulent, 
tat  a  joyous  cty,  a  pleasant  place  of  all  festivity- 


^^BhB 

H| 

HHHHR 

II 

P 

ft 

180 


GREAT  CrriKS  OF  TllE  WORLD. 


dance,  song,  and  harp."*  It  Avas  ngain.st  Tyre  in  Us  heat 
of  presumptuous  glory,  consequent  on  this  triumph  of 
its  ability  and  perseverance,  that  the  lamentable  denun- 
ciations of  Isaiah  and  Ezekicl  were  directed.  Let  us 
listen  to  the  narrative  of  their  fulfilment. 

Before  a  generation  had  passed  away,t  the  direful 
warnings  of  the  prophets  were  confirmed  by  the  appear- 
ance of  Nebuchadnezzar,  who,  after  an  obstinate  resist- 
ance of  fourteen  years'  duration,  made  himself  muster  of 
the  old  city  of  Tyre.  But  the  inhabitants  had  mean- 
while  removed  their  most  valuable  elTecta  into  an  island 
about  half  a  mile  distant  from  the  shore,  where  a  new 
city  was  rapidly  rising.  "  And  therefore,  when  Nebu- 
chadnezzar entered  that  which  he  had  so  long  besieged, 
he  found  little  there  wherewith  to  reward  hid  soldiers  in 
the  spoil  of  the  place  which  they  had  so  long  laboured 
to  take,  and  therefore,  wreaking  his  anger  upon  the 
buildings,  and  the  few  inliubitants  who  were  left  in 
them,  he  razed  the  whole  town  to  the  ground,  and  slew 
all  he  found  therein.  After  this  it  never  more  recovered 
its  former  glory,  but  the  city  on  the  island  became  the 
Tyre  that  was  afterwards  so  famous  by  that  name,  the 
other  on  the  continent  never  rising  any  higher  than  to 
become  a  village  by  the  name  of  Old  Tyre. "J 

•  Kitto,  V.  ii.  p.  896. 

t  See  Prideaux,  v.  i.  p.  114  and  128,  sqq.  The  scoffings  of  the  Tyriana 
agniiiBt  the  kingdoms  of  Judah  and  Isincl  in  their  misfortune  had  no 
Email  shore  in  calling  down  the  Divine  wrath. 

t  Prideaux,  v.  i.  p.  128,— who  shows  that  tho  prophecies  of  Ezekiel 
respecting  the  manner  of  tho  8ie:;o  apply  only  to  the  Tyre  on  tho  mainland. 
But  it  haa  been  sujjgcstod  and  with  much  probability,  that,  although  the 
island  was  not  as  yet  much  bi'ilt  upon.  It  had,  for  some  time  previous  to 
its  siege  by  Nebuchadnezzar,  ^cen  closely  connected  with  tho  old  city. 
Hengst«nberg  (De  Ecbug  Tyi  jrum)  thinks  that  "  there  were  two  cities, 


TYEB. 


1st 


JJZ  h  /  [''^°"""  ««venty  years,"  as  Isaiah  had 
foretold  but  tho  entorprising  spirit  of  its  inhabitant* 

little  or  nothing  is  known,  but  when  the  Macedonian 

other  Syro-l>hoen,c.an  cities  in  renown  and  greatness  " 

the  wf  "r""  '''  '''''^'^'^  *^'«  new'ci  ;  all 
the  forgotten  glones  of  tho  ancient  one,  and  the  Tyrians 
had  not  lost  one  atom  of  the  undaunted  perseveran^ 
wh,eh   had  withstood   the  A.synan   conq'uerr   Z 

rth  TZ'  "?  •^^  ^^'^  P'-^-"^  --«^on,  matched 
by  that  of  Alexander,  ""*i«ubu 

.nltlf'r'r"  ^'f ''••"'  "»'«'.v;  I™'  "hen  Alexander 
apfoachoJ  IVre,  ,l,„  i„,,„|,u„„.,  ,„.!  ambassador,  to 
Imn,  l,oarn,s  present,  for  l.imself  and  provision,  for  hi^ 
army,  at  ti,e  s„n,e  .i„,e  profe„i„,,  their  willingness  ." 
uo  whatever  he  mi<rht  wl^l.       Ai  i  &  voo  tu 

"t-  iHi^iic  AMsh.     Alexander  simp  v  asked 
per™,ss,o„  ,0  enter  .1,0  city,  and  saorifiee  to  Z^^ 
Wl.etl,or  Alexander  well  knew  that  the  request  was 
one  that  wonld  never  be  complied  with,  we  klw  nit 
but  .t  .s  certain  that  the  acknowledgment  of  hbai! 
con,„cr,ng  powers,  and  the  indirect  comparison  of  his 

t2f7rr?  """»f  "«-K  proved  moat  .^:! 

tasteful  to  the  Tyrians,  who  unanimously  denied  him 
an  entrance  I  wiU  not  repeat  any  of  the'lleve  thih« 
whehCur.,us  and  others  assert  that  Alexander  Jd 
"pon  the  occasion,  nor  will  I  dewribe  any  „f  the  appa- 


182 


GREAT   CITIES   OP   THE   WORLD. 


ritions  that  favoured  his  attempts.  A  tedious  siege  of 
seven  months,  while  it  proved  that  the  refusal  of  the 
Tyrians  was  founded  in  the  consciousness  of  substantial 
resources,  at  the  some  time  developed  the  ingenuity  of 
the  Macedonians,  and  showed  them  that  they  had  found 
their  match.  By  mean*  of  a  mole,  the  island  was 
turned  into  a  penrnsula^  formed  by  the  ruinw  of  the  old 
city,  and  of  timber  from  the  adjacent  Mount  Libanus, 
and  thereby  rendered  accessible  to  hind  forces.  And 
hereby,  at  lea»t  in  a  secondary  sense,  were  fulfilled 
those  prophecies  which  had  said  r  "  And  they  shall  lay 
thy  stones  and  thy  timber  and  thy  dust  in  the  midst  of 
the  watery  and  tho«  shalt  be  no  more :  though  thon  bo 
sought  for,  yet  shalt  thou  never  be  found  again,  saith 
the  Loi-d  God."  So- utterly  were  the  ruins  of  Old  Tyre 
cast  into  the  sea,  that  it»  exact  site  cannot  now  be 
determined. 

The  new  city,  however,  at  a  subsequent  period,  man- 
fully resisted  the  attacks  of  Antigonus,  and  the  gar- 
rison stationed  there  by  Ptolemy  was  permitted  to 
depart,  and  the  inhabitants  to  remain  unmolested. 
But  the  rivalry  of  Alexandria,  just  springing  into  poli- 
tical importance,  kept  back  the  tendency  to  recover 
which  seemed  ever  awake  in  the  active  Tyrians,  and  in 
the  time  of  Plmy  it  was  littte  known,  except  for  ita 
n>aniifaeture  of  purple. 

During  the  Crusades,  Tyre  was  beleaguered  more 
than  once,  was  the  burial-place  of  the  German  emperor 
Barbarossa,  and  remained  in  European  hands  tin  a.  d. 
1291,  when  it  was  compelled  to  yield  to  the  fast  advanc- 
ing power  of  the  Moslems,  Its  splendid  fortifications 
were  utterly  demolished,  and  losing  its  value  as  a  strong- 


TYRE. 


133 


hold,  it  never  again  rose  into  importance.     Maundrell 
who  v^.ted  ,t  in  1.394,  gives  us  the  following  descrip: 

';  This  city  standing  in  the  sea  upon  a  peninsula,  pro- 
iBJ^ses  at  a  distance  something  very  magnificent    but 
when  you  come  to  it,  you  find  no  similitude  of  that 
glory  for  ^hich  it  was  renowned  in  ancient  times,  and 
»vhich  the  prophet  Ezckiel  describes.     On  the  ^orth 
«de  ,t  has  an  old  Turkish  ungarrisoned  castle,  besides 
wh  ch  you  see  nothing  here  but  a  mere  Babel  of  broken 
walls,  pillars,  vaults,  &c.,  there  being  not  so  much  as 
one  entire  house  left.    Its  present  inhabitants  are  only 
a  few  poor  wretches  harbouring  themselves  in  the  vaults, 
and  subsisting  chiefly  upon  fishing,  who  seemed  to  be 
preserved  in  this  place  by  Divine  Providence,  as  a  visible 
argument  how  (^.od  has  fulfilled  his  word  concerning 
Tyre  VIZ.,  that  it  should  be  as  the  top  of  a  rock,  a  place 
tor  fishers  to  dry  their  nets  on. 

'jln  the  midst  of  the  ruins  there  stands  up  one  pile 
higher  than  the  rest,  which  is  the  east  end  of  a  great 
church,  probably  of  the  cathedral  of  Tyre;  and  why 
not  the  very  same  that  was  erected  by  its  bishop  Pauli. 
nus  and  honoured  with  that  famous  consecration  sermon 
of  Ensebuis,  recorded  by  himself;  this  having  been  an 
archiepiscopal  see  in  the  Christian  times  ? 

"There  being  an  old  staircase  in  this  ruin  last  men- 
tioned, I  got  up  to  the  top  of  it,  from  whence  I  had  an 
entire  prospect  of  the  island,  part  of  Tyre,  of  the  isth- 
mus,  and  of  the  adjacent  shore.  I  thought  I  could, 
'oin  tins  elevation,  discern  the  isthmu.  to  be  a  soil  of  a 
dWtoient  nature  to  the  other  two,  it  lying  lower  than 
either,  and  being  covered  all  over  with  sand,  which  the 


L 


134 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


sea  casta  upon  it  as  the  tokens  of  its  natural  right  to 
a  passage  there,  from  which  it  was,  by  Alexander  the 
Great,  injuriously  excluded.  The  island  of  Tyre,  in  its 
natural  state,  seems  to  have  been  of  a  circular  figurcj 
containing  not  more  than  forty  acres  of  ground.  It 
discovers  still  the  foundations  of  a  wall,  which  anciently 
encompassed  it  round  at  the  utmost  margin  of  the  land. 
It  makes,  with  the  isthmus,  two  large  bays,  one  on  the 
north  side,  and  the  other  on  the  south.  These  bays  are 
in  part  defended  from  the  ocean,  each  by  a  long  ridge, 
resembling  a  mole,  stretching  directly  out,  on  both  sides, 
from  the  head  of  the  island ;  but  these  ridges,  whether 
they  were  walls  or  rocks,  whether  the  work  of  art  or 
nature,  I  was  too  far  distant  to  discern." 


Mil  *'*p|<|^ 


right  to 
nder  the 
re,  in  its 
ir  figuroj 
und.  It 
mciently 
the  land. 
16  on  the 
bays  are 
ag  ridge, 
)th  sides, 

whether 
)f  art  or 


ROCK-HEWN  TOMB  AT  PBTRA. 


'i'.'\,K...  ,v.j;;-..: 


L 


PETRA. 

IN  a  previous  publication, 
says   Mr.   Buckley,   I 

have  attempted  to  point 
out  certain  leading  fea- 
tures  in  the  character 
of  Jacob,   which   ren- 

Rnitorl  f.  1.      r.  ,  "^^^^^    ^'^"^    especially 

suited  to  be  chosen  as  the  immediate  means  of  landing 
down  God's  wdl  amongst  his  chosen  people:  whl  f 
have  also  tned  to  show  that  "  the  impetuous  and  intem 
pera  e  spmt  of  Esau  rendered  him  little  fitted  toTe 
he  future  progenitor  of  the  Jewish  race,  and  through 
that  race,  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind  "  ^ 

The  early  history  of  these  two  brothers  is  intimately 

urns  of  Petra.    The  same  wild,  restless  spirit  that  had, 

cities,  led  them  to  quit  the  paternal  home,  and  seek 

12*  (187) 


1 


\m 


OUDAI'    ClTIliS    OK   TlIK    WOULD. 


to  oliaiij^o  tlio  Hiinplo  iniioccMico  of  tho  patriurcliul  state 
for  till'  Im.stlo  of  11  iiiililiiry  and  iriuvjiuJiiig  lifo,  to 
(Iclvo  llio  lockrt  into  architectural  fij^tuea,  ami  rear 
palaoort  that  nhoiihl  otic  day  riso,  as  it  were,  out  of  tho 
earth,  to  hear  witness  to  tho  ancient  prido  of  some  of 
her  earliest  children  :  such  a  spirit  doubtless  stimulated 
the  energetic,  but  thoughtless  Esau ;  and  lio  who  had 
sot  little  store  hy  the  best  gifts  and  choicest  honours  of 
patriarchal  primogeniture,  and  tho  prophetic  benedic- 
tion of  an  aged  sire,  has  left,  in  tho  sublinni  monu- 
ments of  I.\>tra,  evidences  that  the  glory  of  Edom  had 
burnt  forth  with  no  couunon  radiance  before  its  setting 
rays  left  nought  but  the  wandering  and  ignorant  Arabs 
to  tenant  tho  deserts  that  had  usurped  the  site  of  her 
ancient  cities. 

But  althougli  Esau  had  lost  his  birthright,  although 
an^er  and  disappointment  for  u  time  severed  him  from 
tho  brother  who  had,  by  the  mysterious  forewarning 
of  God,  supplanted  him  in  attaining  those  rights  which, 
in  tho  eyes  of  tho  Hebrew,  were  endeared  by  tho  nearer 
relationship  to  a  Creator,  and  the  gracious  promises  of 
that  "  sce<l  of  womar."  who  was  hereafter  to  reconcile 
tho  fallen  children  to  tho  oftended  Sire ;  although  ho 
hud  even  conceived  the  desire  of  fatally  revenging  the 
fraud  by  which  he  was  so  great  a  sufferer,  tho  natural 
generosity  and  disinterestedness  of  the  Eastern  chief 
prevailed :  and  when  he  met  his  timid  and  distressed 
brother,  "  Esau  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him,  and 
they  wept."  Viewed  apart  from  considerations  to  which 
I  have  already  alluded,  the  character  of  Esau  appears 
to  much  greater  advantage  than  that  of  his  brother ; 
and   subsequent   traditions,   little   agreeing  with  the 


PETRA. 


139 


statomonta  of  the  scriptural  narrative,  have  done  little 
justice  to  tlio  manful  and  generous,  though  thoughtless 
chiiractor  of  the  founder  of  the  race  of  Edom. 

But  his  greatest  ofie„;c-the  ofTonce  which  had  most 
inlluence  in  severing  him  from  the  communion  of  God's 
chosen  people-was  his  marriage  with  two  Canaanitish 
women.  F.-on,  those  nuptials,  the  Nabatheans  and 
.1  omanites  sprung. 

Of  the  subsequent  history  of  Esau,  scripture  says 
little,  but  the  progress  of  his  descendants  is  traced 
with  tolerable  distinctness.  The  Ilorim,  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  the  district  of  Mount  Seir,  were  gra- 
dually extirpated:  and  their  cavern  dwellings,  which 
had  furnished  a  shelter  against  the  excessive  heat  of 
the  Bun,  became  the  lodgings,  tombs,  and  temples  of 
his  lidomite  descendants. 

The  term  "Duke,"  which  has  been  applied  in  our 
own  version  of  the  Scriptures  to  the  chieftains  who 
ruled  over  the  Edomites,  is  unfortunate  in  conveying 
a  feudal  title  of  nobility  in  lieu  of  a  patriarchal  arran-^e- 
inent  by  which  each  family  was  subject  to  its  own  head, 
while  a  certain  number  of  families  were  again  obedient 
to  a  common  chief.     But,  in  process  of  time,  these 
systems  gave  way  to  the  kingly  power ;  for  when  the 
Israelites  applied  for  permission  to  pass  through  the 
land  of  Edom,  their  request  was  addressed  to  the  king 
of  that  country ;  and  the  road  by  which  they  sought  to 
traverse  w  spoken  of  as  « the  king's  highway."     Hence, 
It  has  justly  been  inferred  that  the  change  from  the 
patriarchal  system  had  taken  place  during  the  wander- 
iDga  of  the  Israelites  in  the  desert.     It  must  be  remem- 
bered,   however,   that   in   some   instances   the   early 


140 


GREAT  CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


authority  of  kings,  as  of  Saul  over  the  Jews,  does  not 
so  much  interfere  Avith,  as  systematically  and  firmly 
organise,  the  existing  state  of  things.  Among  a  hardy 
and  independent  race  like  the  descendants  of  Esau,  an 
uncontrolled  and  oppressive  monarchy  would  have  been 
well  nigh  impossible. 

The  fraternal  feud  which   had   developed   itself  so 
early  in  the  supplanting  of  Esau,  raged  hotly  between 
the    descendants   of    the    brothers :    the    territory   of 
Idumofja  became  more  and  more  subject  to  the  descen- 
dants  of  Jacob.     Petra,  or  rather  Solah,  the  "  city  of 
the  rock,"   was   finally   conquered  by  Amaziali,    who 
changed   its  name  to  Joktheel,  significantly  pointing 
out  the  Divine  influence  that  had  thus  verified  the 
saying,  that   "the  elder  should  serve  tlie  youncrer." 
I'OY  a  time,  however,  it  recovered  its  old  name,  until 
this  gave  way  to  the  Roman  translation  of  it— Petra. 
The  earliest  notice  in  pagan  history  mentions  two 
expeditions  sent  by  Antigonus  against  the  Nabathseans 
in  Petra ;  and  Strabo,  Pliny,  and  Josephus  mention  and 
describe  this  city  as  forming  the  capital  of  Arabia 
Petraja.     Under  the  reign  of  Trajan,  when  the  whole 
district  formed  a   Roman   province,  the  building  of 
Petra  probably  received  some  of  the  embellishments 
which  Roman  art  has  engrafted  on  the  magnificence 
of  their  original  structure;  and  the  fact  that  many 
coins  have  been  discovered,  bearing  the  names  of  his 
successor,  Hadrian,  shows  that  it  was  not  neglected. 
It  appears  as  the  metropolitan  see  of  the  third  Pales- 
tine, in  the  ecclesiastical  notices  of  the  fifth  and  sixth 
centuries ;  but  here  all  mention  of  it  ends.     It  is  true 
that  writers,  during  the  era  of  the  Crusades,  make  use 


PETRA, 


Itl 


Of  the  name,  bal  thoy  erred  in  applying  it  ,„  Rerek  • 
.  m,s.al<e  which  the  ro,earehe,  of  Lrck'havdt,  aflr  . 
long  lapse  of  centuries,  has  bnt  lately  fully  Rectified 
Although  hindered  hy  .he  officious  andlr  ,^i  "t  ! 
erence  of  .he  Bedonin  Arabs,  .his  enligh.en^d  a  1 
n,  lefa.,gable  traveller  succeeded  in  obtaining  suffleien 
data  to  warrant  the  conjecture  which  subseq^n.  criti- 

Z;  e",  T,   r'r  -''"■"■"■""''••».  l--  f^Hyan-l  sati,fac- 
toiilv  e.stablislit'fl, 

.    ^''""'  *^^"  ^';"S  days  journey  north-east  from  Akaba, 
s  a  r.yu  ,.t  and  valley  in  the  Djebel-SJ.ora,  on  the  eaH 
side  of  the  Araba,  called  Wadi  Mouaa. 

"  In  the  red  sandstone,"  says  Burckhardt,  "  of  which 
the  val  ey  .s  composed,  arc  upwards  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  sepulchre,.,  entirely  cut  out  of  the  rock,  the 
greater  part  of  them  with  Grecian  ornaments.  There 
IS  u  mausoleum,  iu  the  shape  of  a  temple,  of  colossal 
d.mons.ons,  hkew.so  cut  o.i  of  the  rock,  with  all  its 
upar  ments,  its  vestibule,  peristyle,  &c.  It  is  a  most 
beaut.ful  specmen  of  Grecian  architecture,  and  in  per- 
fect   preservation.     There    are   other   mausolea,   with 

amphitheatre  cut  out  of  the  rock,  with  the  remains  of 
a  palace  and  of  several  temples.  Upon  the  summit  of 
the   mountain   which   closes   the  nairow  vallov  on   its 

7fr""  fV"  "''  ''™^  '^  "^^'^""  (Aaron,^rotl:er 
of  Moses)  It  IS  held  in  great  veneration  by  the  A,a hs. 
I  I  recollect  right,  there  is  a  passage  in  Eusebiu.^  in 
^^h.ch  he  says  that  the  tomb  of  Aaron  was  situi.ted 
near  Petra.)  The  information  of  Pliny  and  8tra!.o 
on  the  site  of  Petra,  agree  with  the  position  of"  ^vJl 


142 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


H 

1 

1 

an 

mil 

H 

m 

B 

m 

H 

m 

1 

1 

From  the  ample  materials  collected  by  Dr.  Robinson, 
a  recent  editor  of  Calmet,  the  following  amusing  and 
circumstantial  account  of  researches,  corroborating  tho 
previous  ones  of  Burckhardt,  is  derived : — 

"Passing  on  by  Roman  ruins,  and  occasionally 
Roman  roads,  Mr.  Legh  arrived  at  Shubac,  the  20th 
of  May.  « On  the  23rd,  the  sheikh  of  Shubac,  Ma- 
homet Ebu-Raschid,  arrived,  and  w-th  him  also  came 
the  sheikh  Abou-Zeitun  (father  of  the  olive-tree),  the 
governor  of  Wadi  Mousa.  The  latter  proved  after- 
wards our  most  formidable  enemy,  and  we  were  in- 
debted to  the  courage  and  unyielding  spirit  of  the 
former  for  the  accomplishment  of  our  journey,  and  the 
sight  of  the  wonders  of  Petra.  When  we  related  to 
the  two  sheikhs,  who  had  just  entered  the  camp,  our 
eager  desire  to  be  permitted  to  proceed,  Abou-Zeitun 
swore,  "by  the  beard  of  the  prophet,  and  by  the 
Creator,  that  the  CaiTrers,  or  infidels,  should  not  come 
into  his  country."  Mahomet  Ebu-Raschid  as  warmly 
supported  them,  and  '  now  there  arose  a  great  dispute 
between  the  two  sheikhs,  in  the  tent,  which  assumed  a 
serious  aspect :  the  sheikh  of  Wadi  Mousa,  at  length 
Started  up,  voAved  that  if  we  should  dare  to  pass  through 
bis  lands,  we  should  be  shot  like  so  many  dogs.  Our 
friend  Mahomet  mounted,  and  desired  us  to  follow  his 
example,  which,  when  he  saw  we  had  done,  he  grasped 
his  spear  and  fiercely  exclaimed,  '  I  have  set  them  on 
their  horses ;  let  me  see  who  dare  stop  Ebu-Raschid.* 
We  rode  along  a  valley,  the  people  of  Wadi  Mousa, 
with  their  sheikh  at  their  head,  continuing  on  the  higli 
ground  to  the  left  in  a  parallel  direction,  watching  our 
movements.     In  half  an  hour  wd  halted  at  a  spring, 


Robinson, 
musing  and 
orating  tho 


ccasionally 
(?,  the  20th 
lubac,  Ma- 
also  came 
e-tree),  the 
oved  after- 

0  were  in- 
irit  of  the 
?y,  and  the 

related  to 

camp,  our 

bou-Zeitun 

ad   by  the 

1  not  come 
as  warmly 

eat  dispute 
assumed  a 
,  at  length 
iss  through 
logs.  Our 
)  follow  his 
he  grasped 
et  them  on 
Li-Raschid.' 
idi  Mousa, 
)n  the  high 
itching  our 
.  a  spring, 


1 

p\  ] 

[liUi  A 

J'  ll  ^ 

iL    S  i   o 

fl    '1121   w 

V\\i  H 

1  1  S  h^i 

r  11*    t= 

I      It     1^      ^ 

M 1  ^ 

iMli 

«J  «r,  jcmeJ  by  .bout  twenty  horsemen,  provided 
».th  l.n«,,  ^d  thirty  „en  on  foot  with  m.tchloel 
guns,  :.„d  a  few  donble-monnted  dromed.rie.,  whoso 
nder,  were  well  .rmed.  On  the  .rriv.I  „f  ,h  ,  re!" 
foroeraene,  th.  eh.ef,  Eb„-R.sehid,  t«,k  an  oath  in  th. 
presence  of  h«  Arabs,  swearing,  "by  the  honour  of 
the,    women,  and  by  the  beard  of  the  prophet,  that 

of  Wad   Mous.,  and  go  wherever  we  pleased  in  their 
accursed  country."  •    Soon  after  the/left  the  ravtaT 
the  rugged  peak  of  Mount  Hor  was  seen  towering  „ve 
the  dark  raountams  on  their  right,  with  Petra  under  it, 
and  Djcbdtour,  or  Mount  Sinai,  distant  three  days  jo^r! 
ney,  hke  a  cone  m  the  horizon.     They  reached  Eba- 
Rasch,ds  camp,  of  about  seven  tents  (Usually  twenty- 
five  feet  long  and  fourteen  feet  wide),   ■,  thr«  ci2 
and  next  morning  attempted,  but  in  vi,  to  otta  n  he 
consent  of  the  hostile  sheikh  to  pass  thr'ougb  h   "  rt 
tory     They  d.d  not,  however,  come  to  blows;  and  at 
ngth  they  pa     J  the  n^ueh-contested  stream,  in  which 
stood  the  .nud  village  of  VVadi  Mousa:  Ebu-Kas™ id 

:tt:t°;::.:['''""''''-'"'»«"-«-'»^'^e>.o- 

was  of  considerable  dimensions:  and  at  the  entr'ance 
«f  the  open  court  that  led  to  the  inner  ch„o,ber  we  o 

firstltct  If  '       '-f  r'"""  '""■     ^'  *•>«"«  *» 
lust  object  of  eunosily  that  presented  itseh;  we  began 

to  measure  Us  dimensions;  but  our  guides  L^VmZ 

fcnt,  and  said,  that  if  wo  iutended^o  be  sVaccZte 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  TUB   WORLD. 

in  our  survey  of  all  the  extraordinary  places  we  should 
Bee,  vre  should  not  finish  in  ten  thousand  years.'    They 
therefore  remounted  and  rode  on  through  niches  sculp- 
tured in  the  rocks,  frequent  representations  of  rude 
stones,  mysterious  symbols  of  an  indefinite  figure  de- 
tached in  relief,  water-courses  of  earthen  pipes,  arches, 
aqueducts,  and  all  the  signs  of  a  wonderful  period  in 
the  ancient   annals  of  this   memorable  scene.     'We 
continued  (says  the  narrative)  to  explore  the  gloomy 
winding  passage  for  the  distance  of  about  two  miles, 
gradually  descending,  when  the  beautiful  fagade  of  a 
temple  burst  upon  our  view.     A  statue  of  Victory  Avith 
wings  filled  the  centre  of  an  aperture  like  an  attic 
window,  while  groups  of  colossal  figures,  representing 
a  centaur  and  a  young  man,  were  placed  on  each  side 
of  a  portico  of  lofty  proportion,  comprising  two  stories, 
aud  deficient  in  nothing  but  a  single  column.     The 
temple  was  entirely  excavated  from  the  solid  rock,  and 
preserved  from  the  ravages  of  time  and  the  weather  by 
the  massive  projections  of  the  natural  cliffs  above,  in 
a  state  of  exquisite  and  inconceivable  perfection ;  but 
the  interior  chambers  were  comparatively  small,  and 
appeared  unworthy  of  so  magnificent  a  portico.     On 
the  summit  of  the  front  was  placed  a  vase,  hewn  also 
out  of  the  solid  rock,  conceived  by  the  Arabs  to  be 
filled  with  the  most  valuable  treasure,  and  sho.virig, 
in  the  numerous  shot-marks  on  its  exterior,  so  many 
proofs  of  their  avidity ;  for  it  is  so  situated  as  to  be  inac- 
cessible to  other  attacks.     This  was  the  husna  or  trea- 
sure of  Pharaoh,  as  it  is  called  by  the  natives,  which 
Ebu-Raschid  swore  we   should  behold.'     A    colossal 
vase,  belonging,  probably,  to  another  temple,  va^  fieon 


liO,  \r-a8  »»»Ki 


PETKA. 


147 


three  steps  (grundini)  were  to  be  counie/  i^  .       f-^" 
tunate,,,  the  pr„sce„l„,  „ot  hav  :;t;„  t^.td 
hke  the  other  parts,  but  built,  «s  in  Tufe"  ™™! 
r»a,„s  of  a  palaee,  and  i.™ense  numbeoT  brick, 
tiles,  &o.,  presented  theniBelvcs  on  „  l„  ' 

whiie.theroekswbiehenteVl^tlrSsTrh 
the  exception  of  the  north-east,  were  hollowed  o't  "to 
nn^erable  chambers  of  different  dimensions    wh^: 

ZZTa  ;™  ™™-"^'  '-"y.  and  often  fantitia"; 
decotaled   with   every  nnaginable  order   of  architec- 

m"H!!'7"7'  ""''*"  "■'"•*'""■■  "-contributes  so 
m.oh  to  the  almost  magical  effect  of  some  of  these 
monuments  as  the  rich  and  various  colours  of    he  rock 
out  of  which,  or  more  properly,  i„  which  they  a  e 
formed.     Many  of  these  are  adorned  with  such Y  pro 
fusion  of  the  most  lovely  and  brilliant  colours,  as  I 
bheve  It  IS  quite  impossible  to  describe:  red,  purple, 
yellov,  ai,ure  or  sky-blue,  black,  and  white,  Ire  seen 
m  the  same   mass  directly  in   successive   layers,   or 
Wended  so  as  to  form  every  shade  and  hue  of  w  lich 
they  are  capable-as  brilliant  and  as  soft  as  they  ever 
appear  in  flowers  or  in  the  plumage  of  birds,  orL  the 
«ky  ,hen   Illuminated    by   the  most  glorious   sunset. 
The  red  perpetually  shades  into  pale  or  deep  rose  or 
flesh  colour.     The  purple  is  sometimes  very  iPZ 
agam  approaches  the  hue  of  the  lilac  or  violet      The 
ifhite,  which  is  often  as  pure  as  snow,  is  occasionally 


I 


gTf-IMI 


148 


OniCAT  (MTlKN  ulf  tiih  wniii.t). 


JiiNt  (laitliod  with  Mii.t  or  rod.     Tltn  hliin  in  UNiially  thfi 
pnlo  AMiirn  of  tltn  rtonr  rtky,  or  of  tho  onnnn,  hut  Homn 
timoK  liftd  ihn  dorp  and  ppoiiliar  «l»apo  of  tlio  oloudu  in 
iiinimcr  wlion  n^itiilod  by  n  tompont." 

Ill  thin  vjilloy  of  wondprn,  in  thin  cxoavati'd  city, 
wliorn  tlio  glorion  of  tlio  palano,  and  tlio  pomp  of  tlio 
tomplo  ininglo  with  tho  oorrnption  of  lotnhH,  and  tho 
dodohitlon  formed  hy  tho  nii»i«  of  dwollingH,  onoo  rifo 
with  art  and  induntry — in  thin  doHort  of  civilization, 
Btuihlod  with  tho  nionumontH  of  a  raro  of  horocN,  whoHO 
RtrnoturcN  nltraotod  tho  notioo  and  nought  ro«torati«)n  at 
tho  handu  of  tho  IlouiatiN— hortf,  in  tho  niidnt  of  a  rninoil 
city  that  Naltiro  Hoornn  to  havo  Hoii/';ht  to  Mhichl  frojti 
dosohition  hy  an  inHnptM'ahlo  hiirricr  of  niountaiiiM,  hn- 
noath  tho  facjadc  of  tho  tcniplo  wlicro  ihoimandH  wor- 
shipped, on  tho  bonchcH  of  tho  ihoatro,  wliorc  u  liko 
nund)or  hmghod  away  tho  hoiir  that  might  novor  rotnrn, 
or  in  tho  rooosHort  of  thoHo  cavorns,  which  rcooivod  all 
tho  llowor  of  Kdom — savo  tlumo  whoMo  honoH  whitened 
on  tho  hattlo  field — hero  niny  wo  pauso  awhile,  atid 
listen  to  tho  voioo,  which  forewarned  tho  children  of 
Esau  of  their  doom — hero  nniy  avo  lament  ovor  ono  moro 
inslanoo  of  the  vanity  of  man  roaring  up  tho  proudoHt 
monumonta  of  his  disobedienco  and  humiliation. 

"  I  will  bring  the  calamity  of  KHatt  upon  him,  tho 
timo  that  1  will  visit  him.  If  grape-gatherers  como  to 
thoe,  would  they  not  leavo  some  gleaning  grapes  ?  if 
thieves  by  night,  they  vill  destroy  till  they  havo  enough. 
But  I  havo  made  Ksau  bare,  I  have  uncovered  his  secret 
places,  and  he  shall  not  bo  ablo  to  hide  hli..fielf.  Be- 
hold they  whose  judgnuMit  was  not  to  drink  of  tlo  cup 
havo  assuredly  drunken;  and  art  thou  ho  thai  «tV»'M 


:j:=3K>srJ 


PBTHA. 


TI 


149 


Mil .  .1        I     .  '      "  "old(3«t  the  he  uht  of  ihn 

''"••  l»'o..gh  thou  «ho»h]«t  make  thy  nc8tT      K 

ll'.it  uocth   hv  it  shall   hi      .     •  ,  "r   ""  '  ^'"'''^  °"« 

«    "•  '^y  it  «hall  bo  a«toni«hed,  and  shall  hi-s  at 

•  11  the  niatfues  thereof     A«  ;«  #1  ,     *"*""•■'»  at 

;;.<«...; A  anal  „t:r:::rrrs 

" '  ^"-  "-'  i  a„  the  W,I       i E  om  .::  1  ul 

'l.'Bol,il<,  ivililerncB.."     ..For  thr.„  ,7 

U.l".„,„„d  for  four  I«ll  „„,  .       '™««™«'»-  «f 

K.>»,  I  have  ..„„  tiirjrio;  S:  oXrr« 

a.'  «.cati,  dc,,i,od.  TLo  pHdo  of  "  'hath 
JoccvoJ  tl,„.,  t|,„„  that  dwcllct  in  .ho  ckfr„f  th! 
-■k,  »h„..  habitation  i.  hi«h."    "  Shall  I    „  d    .^ 

".hToroft:  V  '^t'i ""'  -;l--^4  »^ 

uiii,  oi  i^sau  r     I  ho  house  of  Jacob  shall  nna 
ana  l,„  homage  wa.te  for  the  dragon,  „f  the  .ildcr" 


Co.nplot,  and  raelanoholy  .,  i,  ,he  rui„  &„  atteaf 


II; 


160 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TIIK  WOULD. 


the  fulfilment  of  the  "burden  of  Erlom,"  forgotten  and 
unclaimed  (even  by  the  barbarians  that  infest  the  dis- 
trict) as  arc  the  edifices  which  cover  and  suiTound  the 
gloomy  valley  of  death  that  even  Roman  magnificence 
once  admired  for  the  splendour  of  its  structures,  careful 
investigation  has  shown  that  Pctra,  in  its  prosperous 
days,  might  once  have  contained  a  population  equal  to 
that  of  Athens.     But  while  wo  cannot  deny  the  elabo- 
rate magnificence  and  wondrous  toil  which  has  exca- 
vated the  rocks  of  the  Edomite  Selah  into  a  city  of 
wonders,  wo  must  remember  that  it  is  extremely  difficult, 
perhaps  impossible,  to  assign  each  building,  or  ratheri 
the  improvements  and  alterations  which  the  buildings 
have  undergone,  to  their  proper  ogcs.     The  mixture 
of  orders  is  alone  sufficient  to  show  the  modifications 
through  which  Petra  has  passed ;  .ind  it  is  for  this  rea- 
son that  I  shall  pay  more  minute  attention  to  the  tombs 
hewn  in  the  rocks,  the  extent  of  which  is  only  surpassed 
by  the  symmetry  of  their  proportions  and  their  fitness 
for  the  melancholy  office  to  which  they  were  destined. 
After  the  Creator  had  doomed  the  fallen  Adam  to 
return  to  the  dust  from  whence  and  of  which  he  came 
—a  doom  in  which  all  his  helpless,  yet  not  uncared-for 
descendants  were  to  participate — man,  wccpino-  over 
the   dearly-cherished,    but   disfigured   and   corrupting 
remains  of  those  he  had  once  loved,  sought  to  lay  their 
corses  in  the  earth,  which  seemed  to  open  her  bosom  tc 
receive  once  more  those  who  had  been  fed  by  her  gifts. 
Whether  in  the  burrows  of  our  own  ancestors,  or  in  the 
cave  which  the  chosen  of  patriarchs  purchased  as  a 
sepulchre  for  his  wife,  and  which  remained  as  an  heir- 
loom for  the  heads  of  succeeding  generations— the  earth 


PETRA. 


151 


ever  da.ms  her  own.  Hence,  as  a  taste  for  sculpture, 
and  a  greater  earnestness  in  labours  of  art  developed 
hen^selves-artificial  caves  became  the  cemeteries'of 
the  dead,  and  in  the  rock  tombs  of  Petra,  as  in  those 
of  Per  opohs,  we  read  the  fulfilnient  of  the  same  sad, 
but  mstructive  prophecy.  ' 

of  fir  '^Z  T"""''''''"  ^'^^  ^''  K'^t^''  "instead 
of  following  all  the  sinuosities  of  the  mountain  and  its 

numerous  gorges,  ranged  in  regular  order,  they  prl 

bab ly  would  form  a  street  not  less  than  five  ^r  six  m^  e^ 

in  length      They  are  often  seen  rising  one  abovrin 

other  in  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  convenient  steps, 

now  '"uch  w        cut  in  the  rock,  lead  in  all  direction 

through  the  fissures,  and  along  the  sides  of  the  mount- 

ams  to  the  various  tombs  that  occupy  these  lofty  posi- 

ions.     Some  of  them  arc  apparently  not  less^'han 

from  two  hundred  to  three  or  four  hundred  feet  above 

he  level  of  the  valley.     Conspicuous  situations,  visible 

from  below,  were  generally  chosen;  but  sometimes  the 

opposite  taste  prevailed,  and  the  most  secluded  cliff. 

fronting  to  some  dark  ravine,  and  quite  hidden  from  tae 

gaze  of  the  multitude,  were  preferred.     The  flights  of 

steps  all  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  are  almost  innumerable, 

and  they  ascend  to  great  heights,  as  well  as  in  all 

directions      Sometimes  the  connection  with  the  city  is 

interrupted  and  one  sees  in  a  gorge,  or  upon  the  face 

of  a  cl.ff,  fifty  or  a  hundred  feet  above  him,  a  long 

series  of  steps  rising  from  the  edge  of  an  inaccessible 

precipice.     Tne  action  of  winter  torrents,  and  other 

agenc.es,  have  worn  the  easy  ascent  into  a  channel  for 

the  waters,  and  thus  interrupted  the  communication. 

ihe  situations  of  these  excavations  are  not  more 


:L_.. 


152 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORL». 


Tarious  than  their  forms  and  dimensions.     Mere  niches 

are  sometimes  cut  in  the  face  of  the  rock,  of  little 

depth,  and  of  various  sizes  and  forms,  of  which  it  is 

difficult  to  conjecture  the  object,  unless  they  had  some 

connection  with  votive  offerings  and  religious  rites.    By 

far  the  largest  number  of  excavations  -nrere  manifestly 

designed  as  places  for  the  interment  of  the  dead ;  and 

thus  exhibit  a  variety  in  form  and  size,  of  interior 

arrangement  and  external  decorations,  adapted  to  the 

different  fortunes  of  their  occupants,  and  conformable 

to  the  prevailing  tastes  of  the  times  in  which  they  were 

made.     There  are  many  tombs  consisting  of  a  single 

chamber,  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  feet  square,  by  ten  or 

twelve  in  height,  containing  a  recess  in  the  wall  large 

enough  to  receive  one  or  a  few  deposits  ;  sometimes  on 

a  level  with  the  floor,  at  others  one  or  two  feet  above 

it,  and  not  nnfrequently  near  the  ceiling,  at  the  height 

of  eight  or  ten  feet.    Occasionally,  oblong  pits  or  graves 

are  sunk  in  the  recesses,  or  in  the  floor  of  the  principal 

apartment.     Some  of  these  are  of  considerable  depth, 

but  they  are  mostly  ehoked  with  stones  and  rubbish,  so 

that  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  it.     In  these  plebeian 

tombs,  there  is  commonly  a  door  of  small  dimensions, 

and  an  absence  of  all  architectural  decorations ;  in 

some  of  larger  dimensions,  there  are  several  recesses 

occupying  two  or  three  sides  of  the  apartment.     These 

seem  to  have  been  formed  for  family  tombs.     Besides 

these  unadorned  habitations  of  the  humble  dead,  there 

is  a  vast  number  of  excavations  enriched  with  various 

architectural  ornaments.     To  these  unique  and  sump. 

tuous  monuments  of  the  taste  of  one  of  the  most  ancient 

races  of  men  with  whom  history  has  made  us  acquainted^ 


front,  whrthe  intet  '■''  "^""^  """^"'"^  '"  "■« 

m.r>l,  of  Grecian  »«>.  ,  «l«l"»ted  raonu- 

graceful  pedir;:;  cad  r;:!™:!://"*"';^^-' 

forming  part  of  fhp  nof,-,.  '  ^'^'^  ^''"' 

reatedrt.  he:«:;,il7  °"/'"*  *^  ^^»  "- 

In  n,.u  in-tanceHt  U^'Zr J"™"'  "fr '"'"• 
tiful  fanades  to  .„,    ""PMsible  to  assign  these  beau- 

Manv  oJ  the  colnr  '""\t"'  "^'''  "^  ""lecture. 
'•7  01  tne  colnmns  resemble  those  of  the  rnri„H! 

order;  but  they  deviate  so  far  both  in  thir  f  """ 
ancient."  ^     °^  *'"'''  """^  "^^^  P^^^^blj  verj 


f.-i  i,i,v-toi->*ri-« 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIES  OF  INDU. 


.OiNlE  apology  is  due  tu  the 
reader,  for  abruptly  con- 
veying him  into  the  region 
of  Bombay,  and  the  pic- 
turesque details  with  which  I  hope 
to  present  him  will  scarcely  excuse 
the  seeming  eccentricity  of  so  rapid 
a  transportation.  But  we  have 
just  been  dwelling  on  the  beauties 
of  Petra,  ahd,  aided  by  the  experienced  pen  of  eye- 
witnesses and  connoisseurs,  we  have  sought  to  form  a 
just  appreciation  of  the  mighty  wonders  of  the  rock- 
city,  to  penetrate  into  the  stillness  of  her  tombs,  to 
pace  the  courts  of  her  temples,  and  to  marvel  at  the 
utter  destruction  of  tie  race  of  men  who  chiselled  the 


^N>' 


[NDU. 

lue  tu  the 
ptly  con- 
he  region 
the  pic- 
ch  I  hope 
ly  excuse 
f  80  rapid 
we  have 
!  beauties 
n  of  eye- 
to  form  a 
the  rock- 
tombs,  to 
rel  at  the 
soiled  the 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIKfl  u.  INDIA.  I57 


mk-ct,  of  Ar.bia-Petr«a,  /h.n  tho  wonZ.  1  oa 

no  doubt  fJinf    ;p  *u  •  merits,  there  can  be 

labours  in  honour  of  »  false  belief-  anH  m  ,,."''""<"' 
the  ruin,  of  Indian  .e»p,e,  btn^  a,  nl    btrin' 
an    are  as  fraught  with  wholesom!  lesrons  of  ""  .  j u' 
^s     0  fragments  „hiob  bear  witness  to  tbo  dorfll  ^' 
Assyrian  greatness. 

Bhif'th?!';  '"  ^'""''^K  "•«  »»»>ject  of  Indian  wor- 
ship,  the  structures  to  which  it  gave  rise    and  th. 
ymbota  in  which  it  sought  to  embo<^rprin4lt 
we  cannot  be  sufficiently  careful  to  avoid  falC  la 
too  ready  taste  for  parailelisn.  with  (ireek     X      .1 
analogjes-yet  we  must  recognise  one  common  feature 
hroughout  the  world;  and  that  is,  that  the  lat  " 
of  a  nafon  generally  ..tests  it,  cnlminatiof  in  th^ 
.d,fices  u  rears  in  the  cause  of  religion.    Ev!n  fn  be 

uipiomacj  ot  the  courtier,  and  freaupntW  *>,-  ««•    ^ 
prosperity  of  an  individual,  ha./^Xd  .herj:^: 

■"ents.     Obscure  as  are  the  annals  of  Egypt,. history  i. 


ft^m^ftmomr, m\  iv 


158 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


unvarying  in  placing  the  epoch  of  its  greatest  Work  as 
coeval  with  its  proudest  prosperity.  Examples,  already 
numerously  instanced  in  this  little  Volume,  are  sufficient 
to  show  that  the  cave  temples  of  India  belong  to  an 
era  of  her  greatness — -to  the  reign  and  career  of  a  race 
of  whom  we  have  not  even  a  lucid  page  of  tradition ; 
and,  although  we  know  nothing  of  the  history  of  their 
founders,  we  must  judge  of  the  artist  by  the  picture, 
and  imagine  the  Hindoos  of  old,  from  the  structures 
that  once  called  them  their  masters* 

As  wo  can  give  little  or  nothing  <  f  an  historical 
character,  in  connection  with  these  oxcavations,  we 
must  content  ourselves  with  describing,  as  far  as  we 
ai-e  able,  the  magnificent  ruins  which  remain  to  attest 
the  progress  and  influence  of  Buddhism. 

One  of  the  earliest  Indian  monuments  that  attracted 
the  notice  of  European  travellers,  was  the  cave-temple 
of  Elephanta,  situated  in  a  beautiful  island  of  the  same 
name.  This  island  lies  in  the  Bay  of  Bombay,  seven 
miles  from  Bombay  Castle ;  it  measures  about  si.x  miles 
in  circumference,  being  composed  of  two  long  hills 
enclosing  a  narrow  valley.  The  island  has  taken  its 
popular  name  from  a  colossal  statue  of  an  elepliant, 
cut  out  of  a  detached  mass  of  blackish  rock,  and  sup- 
porting another  smaller  figure,  probably  that  of  a  tiger, 
on  its  back.  The  length  of  this  colossus,  which  mea- 
sures thirteen  feet  two  inches,  from  the  forehead  to  the 
root  of  the  tail,  stands  about  250  yards  to  the  right  of 
the  landing-place  on  the  southern  part  of  the  island. 

After  proceeding  up  the  valley  for  some  distance, 
the  mountains  unite,  and  we  find  ourselves  in  the 
middle  of  a  narrow  path ;  after  ascending  which,  we 


■.-J:^'^ttfi$gKi!ifeSS^giB 


THR  ROCK-HKWN  CITIKi  OF  INDIA.  IflO 

enjoy  at  the  summit  a  beautiful  prospect  of  thf  north- 
em  part  of  the  island,  and  the  opposite  shores  of  its 
nc.gl.bonr,  Sal«ette.  Then,  in  the  words  of  Mr- 
Jlirskitie, — 

-Advancing  forTtJird,  and  keeping  to  tho  left  alon;? 
the  bor.d  ot  the  hill,  wc  gradually  mount  to  an  open 
Bpaco,  and  come  suddenly  on  the  grand  entrance  of  a 
magn.hcent  temple,  whose  huge  massy  columns  scera 
to  give  support  t.  the  whole  mountain  whicii  rises 
above  It, 

"  The  entr.  nci.  into    his  temple,  which  is  entirely 
hewn  o.t  of  a  .tn.o  nvs.  nbling  porphyry,  is  by  a  spa- 
c.ous  front  supp,   .,,1  v^  two  massive  pillars  and  two 
pilasters,  forming  three  opening,    under  a  thick  and 
steep  rock   overhung  by  brushwood  and  wild  shrubs. 
Ihe  long  ranges  of  columns  that  appear  closing  in 
perspective  on  every  side-thc  flat  roof  of  solid  rock 
Unit  seems  to  be  prevented  from  falling  only  by  tho 
niassy  pillars,  whose  capitals  are  pressed  down  and 
flattened   as   if  by   the   superincumbent   weight-the 
darkness  that  obscures  the  interior  of  the  temple,  which 
13  dimly  lighted  only  by  the  entrances ;  and  the  gloomy 
appearance  of  the  gigantic  stone  figures  ranged  along 
Ihe  wall,  and  hewn,  like  tho  whole  temple,  otit  of  the 
hvmg  rock,  joined  to  the  strange  uncertainty  that  hangs 
orer  the  history  of  this  place^carry  the  mind  back  to 
distant  periods,  and  impress  it  with  that  kind  of  un- 
certain  religious  awe  with  which  the  grander  works  of 
ages  of  darkness  are  generally  contemplated. 

"The  whole  excavation  consists  of  three  principal 
parts:  the  great  temple  itself,  which  is  in  tho  centre; 
and  two  smaller  chapels,  one  on  each  side  of  the  great 


160 


GBEAT  CITIES  OF  TUE  IVOBLD. 


temple.  These  two  chapols  do  not  come  forward  in 
a  straight  line  with  the  front  of  the  chief  temple,  are 
not  perceived  on  approaching  the  temple,  and  are 
considerably  in  recess,  being  approached  by  two  narrow 
passes  in  the  hill,  one  on  each  side  of  the  grand  en- 
trance, but  at  some  distance  from  it.  After  advancing 
to  some  distance  up  these  confined  passes,  we  find  each 
of  them  conduct  to  another  front  of  the  grand  excava- 
tion, exactly  like  the  principal  front  which  is  first  seen ; 
all  the  three  fronts  being  hollowed  out  of  the  solid  rock, 
and  each  consisting  of  two  huge  pillars  with  two  pilas- 
ters. The  two  side  fronts  are  precisely  opposite  to 
each  other  on  the  east  and  west,  the  grand  entrance 
facing  the  north.  The  two  wings  of  the  temple  are  at 
the  upper  end  of  these  passages,  and  are  close  by  the 
grand  excavation,  but  have  no  covered  passage  to  con- 
nect them  with  it." 

In  the  neighbouring  island  of  Salsette,  there  are 
excavations  on  a  grander  scale.  To  the  enlightened 
and  tasteful  pen  of  Bishop  Heber,  we  are  indebted  for 
the  following  elaborate  account  of  the  grand  temples 
of  Kennery : — 

"These  are,  certainly,  in  every  way  remarkable 
from  their  number,  their  beautiful  situation,  their 
elaborate  carvings,  and  their  marked  connection  with 
Buddha  and  his  religion.  The  caves  are  scattered 
over  two  sides  of  a,  high  rocky  hill,  at  many  different 
elevations,  and  of  various  sizes  and  forms.  Most  of 
them  appfiar  to  have  been  places  of  habitation  for 
monks  or  hermits.  One  very  beautiful  apartment,  of 
a  square  form,  its  walls  covered  with  sculpture,  and 
surrounded  internally  by  a  broad  stone  bench,  is  called 


L 


THE  EOCK-HEWN  CITIES  0»  INDIA.  161 

s'oto?"  m''  't  '  '■'r"  ""■^^  «"-»  '■"''  teen  a 
school  Many  have  deep  .„d  well-carved  cisterns 
a«aehed  to  them,  which,  even  in  thi,  dry  ea  »„ 
(Ma>,)  were  well  aupplied  with  water.  The  We," 
and  most  ren,arlable  of  all  is  a  Buddhist  tempirof 
great  beanty  and  majesty,  and  which   even  in  i?   '  e. 

place  of  Chnstmn  worship.    It  is  entered  thron^h  a 

'rZlnl  ^"'-""''--S  »  '-e  front  b„t  attl 
to  the  left  hand,   a  high  detached  octagonal  pillar 
.rmonnted  by  three  lions,  seatc    back  t!  back.'    On 
each    ,de  of  the  portico  is  a  colossal  statue  of  Buddha 
with  h.s  hands  raised  in  the  attitude  of  benediction 
and  the  screen  which  separates  the  vestibule  ft  ^    he 
emple  .s  covered  immediately  above  the  dodo,  with  a 
row  of  male  and  female  figures,  nearly  naked  but  na 
.ndeceot    and  carved  with  consideraMe  s ^    ,S 
apparently  represent  dancers.-In  the  ceLe  „    the 
semrcrcle,  and  with  a  free  walk  all  round  it,  is  a  J2 
of  rock  left  solid,  but  carved  externally  lik    a  die 
and  so  as  to  bear  a  strong  general  ifkcncss  toTu; 
Savour  a  sepulchre,  as  it  is  now  chiselled  away  and 

top  of  the  dome  is  a  sort  of  spreading  ornament,  like 
the  capital  of  a  column.    It  is  apparently  intended  to 
.upport  something,  and  I  was  afterwards  lid  at  Car« 
.here  such  an  ornament,  but  of  greater  size,  is  like: 
wise  found  that  a  large  gilt  umbllla  used  t'o  splt^ 

svlo  ,  I  Lu°'"*  ^'""'  "fP"'"^  '»  >»  'he  usual 
symbol  of  Buddhist  adoration,  and  with  its  umbrella 
ornament,  may  be  traced  in  the  Shoo-Madoo  of  PeZ 
and  other  more  remote  structures  of  the  same  faith' 

14* 


1 


162 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  illE  WORLD. 


Tliough  it  is  different  in  its  form  and  style  of  ornamcm 
from  the  Lingam,  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  has  been 
originally  intended  to  represent  the  same  popular  object 
of  that  almost  universal  idolatry.  The  ceiling  of  this 
cave  is  arched  semicircularly  and  ornamented,  in  a 
very  singular  manner,  with  slender  ribs  of  teak  wood 
of  the  same  curve  with  the  roof,  and  disposed  as  if 
they  were  supporting  it ;  which,  however,  it  does  not 
require.  Nor  arc  they  'Strong  enough  to  answer  the 
purpose.  Their  use  may  have  been  to  hang  lamps  or 
flowers  from  in  solemn  rejoicings." 

Let  us  continue,  with  the  same  traveller,  to  inves- 
tigate the  wonders  of  Carli,  despairing,  as  we  do,  of 
furnishing  a  more  eloquent  and  tasteful  description  : — 
"  This  celebrated  cavern  is  hewn  on  the  face  of  a 
precipice  about  two-thirds  up  the  side  of  a  steep  hill, 
rising,  with  a  very  scarped  and  regular  talus,  to  the 
height   of,   probably,   eight   hundred   feet   above   the 
plain.     The  excavations  consist,  beside  the  principal 
temple,  of  many  smaller  apartments,  and  galleries  in 
two   stories,   some   of   them   ornamented   with   great 
beauty,  and  evidently  intended,  like  those  at  Kennery, 
for   the  lodging  of  monks  or  hermits.     The  temple 
itself  is  on  the  same  general  plan  as  that  of  Kennery, 
but  half  as  large  again,  and  far  finer  and  richer.     It 
is  approached  by  a  steep  and  narrow  path  winding  up 
the  side  of  the  hill  among  trees  and  brushwood,  and 
fragments  of  rock.     This  brought  us  to  a  mean  and 
ruinous  temple  of  Siva,  which  serves  as  a  sort  of  gate- 
way to  the  cave:  a  similar  small  building  stands  on 

the  right  hand  of  its  portico The  approach  to 

the  temple  is^  like  that  of  Kennery,  under  a  noblt 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIES  OP  INDIA.  163 

".orf'o'f  ,7  "■''  "  ™"  "'  f°'«-  -^«».  ■">  two 
Ibo  e     i„  T\  ""'7'™'"-"''-  bolow,  and  Ave 

.ame  kind "f     .,     "*■    '"  "  '""°  '">  'k"  k".  -  'he 
ame  kmd  of  p, „,  „  ,,^„  „j  jj 

•ugor  ,toens,o„,  ™™onn.ed  by  three  IL  bafk 
Dack.     \  ,th,n  tl,c  portico,  to  tl,c  riglit  and  left  are 

„        f-oes  looking   ,„„,,„!,  tl,o  pcr,on  „I,o  arrives 

1  m  I  ^  ''  "•""'"»  ^'■°"'  ""■  "«•  On  eael,  of 
ti  m  ..  a  rnohout  very  woH  c,,rvcd,  and  a  hcvdah 
.  th  .wo  person,  seated  in  it.     The  internal   s  re  n 

nf  "i'"-™''?™''  ™7  bold  and  somewhat  larger  than 
l.fo,  of  naked  male  and  female  Sg„  I  asked  our 

y^ng  guides  what  deities  these  r%r,  .,  ,ted  a  d  Z 

7™d    '°        'T  "'™  ■"  --"■■-' Those 
no    gods,  one  god  „  sufiieient,  these  are  viragoes' 

rehg,ou,  enthusiasts,  or  attendants  on  the  deity.)  On 
askrng,  however,  if  their  god  was  the  same  whom  they 
«rsh,pped  ,n  the  little  temple  before  the  step"  and 

0  that  therr  de,sm  merely  extended  to  paying  worship 
oa  smgle  ,do!  ,„,y.    n„„  j^  certdniy,  however 

object  of  devotron,  e.tcept  the  mystic  chettah,  or  urn- 

.he  a',:  :l^  T'""''  "'  '''•"'''^-    ™»  o»w>^  "f 

pubis  ed^d"        -f  '""  '"-"''y>"»«  than  once 
Cw,r,  ;     1^      '°    '  «'""''''  "■■■•angement,  it  closely 

,  °T  ''""'"•^'  ^  ''"'  "»'?  "''se™.  that  both 

■n  dmensrons  and  execution,  it  rs  much  nobler  and 


164 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  TUB   WORLD. 


more  elaborate ;  and  that  the  capitals  of  the  columns 
(all  of  them  at  least  which  are  not  hidden  by  the 
chettah  at  the  east  end)  are  very  bingular  and  beauti- 
ful. Each  conuists  of  a  large  cup,  like  a  bell,  finely 
carved,  and  surmounted  by  two  elephants  with  their 
trunks  intertwined,  and  each  carrying  two  male  and 
one  female  figure,  which  our  guides  again  told  us  were 
viragoes.  The  timber  ribs  which  decorate  the  roof, 
whatever  their  use  may  have  been,  arc  very  perfect, 
and  have  a  good  effect  in  the  perspective  of  the 
interior,  which  is  all  extremely  clean,  and  in  good 
repair,  and  would  be,  in  fact,  a  very  noble  temple 
for  any  religion." 

But  it  is  in  the  ruins  of  Ellora  that  we  must  see  for 
the  consummation  of  Indian  art  in  the  construction  of 
sacred  edifices. 

These  tenjples  are  situated  in  the  province  of  Hy- 
derabad, about  twenty  miles  north-west  from  Des- 
ghir  or  Tagara,  the  capital  of  Aurungabad,  and  239 
miles  east  of  Bombay.  It  may  be  considered  as 
near  the  centre  of  India.  Here  wo  have  a  granite 
mountain,  forming  a  vast  amphitheatre,  completely 
chiselled  out  from  top  to  bottom,  and  filled  with  innu- 
merable temples;  the  god  Siva  alone  having,  it  is  said, 
about  twenty  appropriated  to  himself.  To  describe  the 
numerous  galleries  and  rows  of  pillars  which  eupport 
various  chambers,  lying  one  above  another ;  the  steps, 
porticos,  and  bridges  of  rock  over  canals,  also  hewn 
out  of  the  solid  rock,  would  bo  impossible;  and  we 
recommend  those  who  have  the  opportunity  to  look  at 
Daniell's  designs,  which,  incomplete  as  they  are,  and  on 


TDE  ROCK-HEWN   CITIES  OF  INDU.  166 

loo  small  .  ,„,le,  will  serve  to  give  ,o»e  idea  of  tW, 
wo.,dorful  place.     The  chief  .en,ple  in  this  fountain 
»  C"l  W  K„,l„,a,  which  we  enter  fron,  under  a  balcony ; 
after  winch  we  come  to  an  antechamber  138  feet  wide 
by  88  foot  m  length,  with  many  rows  of  pillar,  and 

t  '  r '  "^""","'  "'™-  P'-™  "'«  d-»">ber  we  pas, 
hrough  a  grand  portico,  and  over  a  bridge,  into  a 
;»«e  cavern-chamber,  or  rather  court,  open  .°o  Ae  sky! 

h    nit,      *°  'T'/  "■"  ""'""'  '■°*  O'-erhanging 
,     P'"'"=  "'■'"■"''•     I"  tl.e  middle  of  this  court  stands 

0  grea    tcn,,.lo,  which  is  excavated  from  the  uppe 
Jon  of  the  ,,„t    ,„j  „p^^^^^  ,.^^  ^  »  r 

l.ft  out  of   the  rock,  a,  the  mass  of  the  mountaL 

^te    h    entrance,  there  i,  a  figure  of  Bowanee  .it.L 
on  a  lotus,  w,th  two  elephants  with  their  trunk,  joined 
a.  though  flghtng  over  her  head.     On  eac;.  side    f 

he  passage  under  the  bridge,  is  an  elephant,  one  of 

»l..ch  l.as  lost  its  head,  the  other  it,  trunk,  and  bo* 

e  much  shortened  of  their  heigh,  by  eartL     Th    e 

r  ,  hkew.se,  range,  of  apartment,  on  eacl.  side  behind 
the  elephants  of  which  those  on  the  left  are  much  the 
finest,  bemg  handsomely  decorated  with  figures-  ad 
va.,cc,l  ■„  the  area,  beyond  the  elephants,   are' two 

bchsks,  0,  a  square  form,  handsomely  graduated  to 
he  commencement  of  the  capitals,  which  seem  to  ha  e 
been  crowned  with  ornaments." 

f.  J'"'-.,'™'''?  '?'""■  ■"'"""■"'  "3  feet  long,  and  56 
feet  w,de,  and  r.ses  to  a  height  of  100  feet  f  a  pyra! 
">.dal  form.    It ,,  hollowed  out  to  the  height  of  sefen- 


166 


QivEAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLB. 


teen  feel,  and  supported  by  four  rows  of  pillars, 
fronted  by  colossal  elephants.  Thesr  movisters  seem 
to  give  life  and  vigour  to  thf>  general  desif^n,  T^'oi'st 
the  whole  building,  resembling  one  of  the  most  mag- 
nificent of  the  pyran\idal  temples,  is  covered  with 
sculptures. 


rrcz7.— ;zi:u ...  I T.;;. » 


"-^J- 


PEKING. 


V^HE  frequenter  of  cu- 

riosity  shops,  who  has 

amused   himself   among 

W     m      *^^  ^^^^Jmsicul  monsters, 

dvxB^   fantastical  furniture  and 

toys,  whioh,  i„  defianco  .(  JIZTL'''    T"'"' 
natural  style  of  art  ol.i™    j  ^  ''"  """^  ""<»■« 

««.  of  thL\?;:  *  Pp  :tT:r:f"  '"^f"""'^- 

i«  their  execation,  „i„  f  ad"lv  finn"^  "  "''^ '""'^' 

introduction  of  CI  ina  afLr   {  "■  '■'"'™  '<"•  "" 

Indian  art.     CoSX;     '  i^lr  7;'  '""■'''  "' 
customs— equal  mvstPrv.^f,-^        manners  and 

.nda„e,ua,VeXeTfBuS-:rf''"'' !;■■""■'■ 
"Pology  for  the  introduction  of  PokiTli  7      "'"'■'^ 

--irdoftitiarr:::^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Tlusenonuous  town  i,  situated  on  a  vast  p,:ti„  the 


nc-Jg. 


168 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


interior  of  the  district  of  Chih-li,  the  northernmost 
province  of  China  Proper.  The  eastern  and  southern 
boundaries  of  the  sandy  plain  are  not  visible  from  the 
town,  but  on  the  west  and  north  hills  begin  to  rise  only 
a  few  miles  from  the  walls  of  the  city.  Peking  is  situ- 
ated fifty  miles  from  the  great  wall,  at  its  nearest  point, 
and  it  is  one  hundred  miles  from  the  gulf  of  Chih-li. 
It  is  about  six  miles  in  diameter,  and  eighteen  miles  in 
circumference.  The  following  account  from  the  pen  of 
one  of  the  early  Jesuits,  will  doubtless  prove  interest- 
ing:— 

"  Pekin,  that  is  the  north  court,  is  the  chief  city  of 
China,  and  the  usual  seat  of  its  emperors.  It  is  so 
named  to  distinguish  it  from  Nankin,  the  south  court, 
another  very  considerable  city,  so  called  from  the  em- 
perors residing  there  in  former  ages,  it  being  the  finest, 
the  most  commodious,  and  best  situated  of  the  whole 
empire ;  but  the  continual  incursions  of  the  Tartars,  a 
warlike  and  very  troublesome  neighbour,  obliged  him 
to  settle  in  the  most  northernly  provinces,  that  he  might 
be  always  ready  to  oppose  them,  with  the  numerous 
army  he  usually  keeps  near  his  court  .  .  .  This 
city,  which  is  of  an  exact  square  form,  wns  formerly 
four  long  leagues  round,  but  Tartars  settling  there 
forced  the  Chinese  to  live  without  the  walls,  where  they, 
in  a  very  short  while,  built  a  new  town,  which,  being 
more  long  than  large,  does  with  the  old  one  compose 
an  irregular  figure.  Thus  Pekin  is  made  up  of  two 
cities;  one  is  called  the  Tartar's,  because, they  permit 
none  else  to  inhabit  it ;  and  the  other  the  Chinese,  as 
large,  but  much  more  full  than  the  first  Both  are 
together  six  great  leagues  in  circuit,  allowing  8600 


" 


PGKINO. 


169 


paoes  to  each  league.     Thi,  I  can  aver  to  bo  true  it 
ha™^  been  „ea,„„d  by  the  emperor',  epeci.5  com- 

story,  and  the  testimony  of  all  authorities  point  to  a 
in  the  world.     Ten  or  even  twenty  persons  will  live  in 

Marti    ""■"•/'"I""'  "'™''"S  ''"^"-''fe  "oti    . 

Marfn    ,„  deseribing  the  eity,  observes  •-"  The 
northern  division  of  PeMng,  oonsist^'of  theTenclosu^cs 
onewuhm  another,  each  surrounded  by  its  ow^wal ' 

of  the  different  members  of  the  imperial  household  • 
the  second,  was  designed  for  the  residence  of  throfficers 

chal    .rtb  d'  ''  ""  """P'^"  'y  Chinese  Z! 
chants ,    he  th.rd,  consists  of  the  space  enclosed  by  the 

outer  walls,  and  was  formerly  inhabited  by  Tartar 

soldiers,  but  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Chinese  sW 

teeper,  and  traders.     The  first  enclosure    ZwZ" 

C'V)  -»  the  most  splendid  and  important  part  of  Pekinl 

r  11  •"•■  ^'  'f  ""  """"S  Pa'allelogram,  about 
two  mdes  in  circumference,  and  enclosed  by  a  wall 
nearly  rt„rty  feet  high.  This  wall  is  built  ofUsI  " 
red  brick,  ,„  ,,j  ^^  ^  ^^^^  ^.^^^  ^.^^       P       ed 

and  covered  with  varnished  tiles  of  a  brilliant  yeUow 
wh  ch  g,ve  It  the  appearance,  when  seen  under  tbCr!y 
of  the  sun  of  being  covered  with  a  roof  of  gold.  The 
■nterior  of  this  enclosure,  is  occupied  by  f  suite  „f 
court-yards  and  apartments,  which,  ft  is  safd,  fort  „  y 
and  splendour  cannot  be  surpassed.  I.  is  divided  into 
three  parts,  the  eastern,  middle,  and  western.     The 


y^ 


170 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


■Jiddie  ?.iv'.j!')n  contains  the  imperial  buildings,  which, 
ftre  f^.tbdirided  into  several  distinct  palaces.  They  are 
represented  by  the  Jesuits  as  perfect  models  of  archi- 
tecture. 

"  The  gates  and  halls  are  thus  described  :— 1.  The 
meridian  gate.  T?ffore  ut.l,  gate,  on  the  east,  is  a  lunar 
dial,  and  on  the  west,  a  solar,  and  in  the  tower  above 
it,  a  large  bell  and  gong.  All  public  officers  enter  and 
leave  the  palace  by  the  eastern  avenue ;  none  but  the 
princes  of  the  imperial  blood  are  permitted  to  pass  the 
western,  and  none  but  the  emperor  the  southern  avenue. 
At  this  gate  are  distributed  the  presents  to  embassies ; 
and  all  war  captives  are  here  received  by  his  majesty 
in  person.  2.  The  gate  of  Peace  has  five  avenues,  and 
is  a  superb  building  of  white  marble.  The  height  of 
the  basement  is  tw  nty  feet,  and  the  whole  edifice  110 
feet.  The  ascent  to  it  is  by  five  flights  oi  forty  steps 
each,  and  it  is  highly  ornamented  with  tripods,  and 
other  figures  in  bronze.  Here,  on  all  the  holidays,  1 
on  the  anniversary  of  the  emperor's  birthday,  he  re- 
ceives the  congratulations  of  hi  officers,  who  prostrate 
themselves  to  the  earth  before  him,  and  strike  the 
ground  with  their  foreheads.  3.  The  Hall  of  Perfect 
Prace ;  here  the  c  leror  cories  to  exam'.i\e  the  imple- 
m  s  prepared  for  the  annuni  ceremony  of  plougl'ng. 
4.  The  Hall  of  Secure  Peace ;  in  this  the  emp*  ror 
givef?  P'  banquet  to  his  foreigr  guests  on  new  year's 
day.  6.  The  Tramjuil  Palace  of  Heaven,  i.  e.  c  ^  the 
emperor.  This  is  a  private  retreat  to  which  v  ojje 
can  approach  without  .special  permission.     This  palace 


is  described  '      the 
opportunities  o    dee 


lussians,  who   have   had  m.^ny 
it,  as  'the  loi  iest,  richest    and 


PKK INO. 

most  magnificent  of  all  the  palaces.'     On  each  side  of 
h    tower  .3  a  large  copper  vessel,  in  which  incense  i. 

p    e    /  f  "A:'°'"     '•  ^''  ""''''''  «^  E-th's  Re. 
pose    ...  of    he  empress,  which  is  said  to  be  very 

b  aut.ful ;  adjouung  this  is  the  imperial  flower-garden 
^  uch  .  lad  out  in  walko  for  her  majesty,  who  being  a 
Tartar  has  not  adopted  the  Chinese  custom  of  crippiL 
her  feet,  and,  therefore,  is  said  to  enjoy  herself  in  wha! 
^scaled  <R,rth-s  Repose.'     In  this  gafden  s     ,  br    ! 
TchLir"        ollection  of  all  the  books  publishe'ci 

Of  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  the  streets  of  Pekin. 
some  Idea  may  be  formed  from  the  words  of  a  writef 

r;r;:^r*^^-^^-^'-^«^-edwith: 

"Even  the  widest  streets  are  not  free  from  con- 
fusion;  and  at  the  sight  of  so  many  horses,  mule" 
camels,    wagons,    chairs,    and    rings   of    100   or   200 

persons  who  gather  here  and  there  round  the  fortune 
ellers,  one  wou  d  judge  that  some  unusual  show  had 
d  awn   the  whole  country  to  Pekin.    .    .    ,    rj^T, 
--tio    ug  the  practice  of  all  persons  of  any  property 
P     'g  out  with  many  attendants,  he  continues  •  -It 
js  endent  that  these  customs,  which  are  peculi'  r  t 
China,  do  very  much  increase  the  throng,  and  it  must 
not  be  wonde     i  at  that  the  city  shou       ,1^  much 
-re  populous  tl.n  it  really  is :  and  what  m.Ton- 
-ce  us  ,s,  tl.      as  I  have  sho.vn,   there  rn"   2 
P^^ople  lod    .  in  ,  uris  than  in  Pekin      Th^n   .  i 
for  ffMT   ,.,i  f».„*  *  -fekin.     ihen,  taking  it 

takeun  '''^''  twenty  f^ve  persons  t' ore 

take  up  no  more  room  than  ten  her.    .  I  have  alread, 
8a.d,  we  must  conclude,  on  the  whole,  that  Peki-    con- 


f 


r 


172 


GREAT  CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


taina  near  twice  as  many  as  Paris  does ,  and  I  think  J 
shall  not  be  very  wide  of  the  truth  if  I  allow  it  two 
millic    )  of  inhabitants." 

In  1668  the  total  population  of  China  was  2,'),;i86,209 
inhabitants;  taking  th(>  annual  births  in  the  empire  tc 
bo  30,000  (which  cannot  be  far  from  the  truth,)  and 
allowing  a  third  of  these  to  die,  wo  have  a  decrease  of 
some  40,000,  and  630,000  for  adult  deaths,  loaves  us 
rather  more  than  24,000,000  as  the  total  population  in 
1697;  and  on  comparison  2,000,000  for  the  capital 
will  not  appear  too  much.  The  present  population  is 
about  3,000,000. 

"  Almost  all  the  streets  are  built  in  a  direct  line, 
the  greatest  being  about  120  feet  broad,  and  a  good 
league,  and  the  shops  where  they  sell  silks  and  china- 
ware,  which,  gcnerall\  take  up  tho  whole  street,  makes 
a  very  agreeable  perspective.  *  *  *  Each  shop- 
keeper puts  out  before  his  house,  on  a  little  kind  of 
pedestal,  a  board  twenty  or  two-and-twenty  feet  high, 
painted,  varnished,  and  often  gilt,  on  which  ai  e  written, 
in  large  characters,  the  names  of  the  several  commo- 
dities ho  sells.  These  kind  of  pilasters,  thus  placed 
on  each  side  of  the  street,  and  almost  at  an  equal  dis- 
tance from  each  other,  make  a  pretty  odd  show.  This 
is  usual  in  almost  all  the  cities  of  China,  and  I  have  in 
some  places  seen  so  very  neat  ones,  that  one  would 
think  they  had  designed  to  make  a  stage  of  the 
street." 

The  accounts  of  travellers  concur  in  describing  the 
streets  of  Peking  as  very  animated,  but  as  full  of  dirt 
and  dust  as  any  city,  equally  as  badly  cleansed, 
nearer  home.  „ 


I  think  1 
)vr  it  two 

5,386,209 
empire  tc 
ruth,)  and 
jcrease  of 
leaves  us 
lulation  in 
he  capital 
(ulation  is 

irect  line, 
id  a  good 
ind  china- 
3et,  makes 
ach  shop- 
le  kind  of 

feet  high, 
re  written, 
al  commo- 
lus  placed 

equal  dis- 
low.  This 
I  I  have  in 
one  would 
ge   of  the 

;rihing  the 

full  of  dirt 

cleansed, 


PEKINft. 


175 


A3  Peking  started  into  its  present  regular  modem 
array  at  least  seven  hundred  years  before  the  Christ- 
lan  era   httle  can  be  said  on  the  subject  of  its  anti- 
qui  les    for  since  all  is  so  ancient,  nothing  can  be 
particularly  mentioned  as  of  parallel  antiquity  to  what 
we  have  seen  in  Egypt,  Nineveh,  Syria,  Perseoolis, 
and  India;  for   although  the  institutions   of  t^-day 
have  existed  m  the  country  for  2,500  years,  to  describe 
them  woald.b.  to  describe  what  is  taking  place  every 
day.     There  has  been  no  race  destroyed  here  as  in 
Nineveh,  and  there  has  been  little  left  by  the  earUer 
dem.ens  of  th.  country  to  signify  their  presence;  the 
Great  Wall,  indeed,  conveys  to  our  minds  an  impres- 
sion of  plaster  still  wet,  and  is  almost  the  oldest  piece 
of  architecture  they  possess;  as   it  has  been  often 
described,  we  shall  not  include  it  in  the  present  sketch. 
One  curiosity  there  does  exist  in  China,  of  unques- 
tionable  comparative  antiquity  and  great  interest  in 
respect  to  the  preaching  of  Christianity,  which  Martin 
a  most  excellent  authority  on  China,  thus  describes! 
speaking  of  embassies :~ 

''A.  p.,  635.     The  Chinese  annals  state,  that  durins 
the  reign  of  Tait-sung,  the  second  emperor  of  the 
lang  dynasty,  there  came  ambassadors  from  foreign 
nations.     There  arrived  at  tie  capital  of  China,  sL 
gan-foo,   a   man  of   exalted   virtue,   named   Olapun. 
Ihe  Emperor  graciously  received  this  stranger,  exa- 
mined   the   nature  of  the   new  religion  (Scriptures,) 
found  that  Olapun  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
truth  and  uprightness,  and  gave  him  a  special  com- 
mand  to  make  it  known.    The  following  year  this 
decree  was  issued ; — 


176 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLI>. 


" '  Truth  hath  not  an  unchanging  name,  nor  are 
holy  men  confined  to  ^ne  immutable  form.  In  every 
place  true  doctrine  has  been  disseminated ;  and  with 
reiterated  instructions,  the  crowd  of  the  living  have 
been  blessed.  From  the  distant  region  of  Ta-tsin 
(Arabia,  probably,)  [Ta-tsin,  '  great  purity]*  the  greatly 
virtuous  Olapun  has  brought  scriptures  and  pictures^ 
to  offer  them  to  our  high  court.  If  the  intent  of  this 
doctrine  be  examined,  it  is  seen  to  be  profound,  excel- 
lent, and  pure.  If  its  noble  origin  be  considered,  it 
offers  that  which  is  important.  Its  phraseology  is 
without  superfluous  words.  It  contains  truth,  reject- 
ing that  which  is  needless.  It  is  beneficial  accord- 
ing to  every  view,  and  profitable  to  the  people ;  and 
should,  therefore,  pervade  the  empire.  Let  the  officers 
erect  a  temple  for  the  religion  of  Ta-tsin  in  the  capi- 
tal, and  appoint  twenty-one  ministers  for  its  adminis- 
tration. 

"  The  discovery  of  a  Syrian  monument,  commemo- 
rating the  progress  of  Christianity  in  China,  which 
was  erected  a.  d.  718,  is  a  remarkable  circumstance 
in  corroboration  of  the  foregoing  statement.  This 
monument  was  discovered  by  some  Chinese  workmen, 
A.  D.  1625,  near  the  city  of  Sangan,  the  capital  of  the 
province  of  Shen-se,  which  was  at  a  remote  period  the 
capital  of  the  empire.  This  city  is  situated  on  the 
river  Wei,  in  latitude  34°  16'  N.  The  monument 
is  described  as  a  slab  of  marble,  about  ten  feet  long 
and  five  feet  broad ;  it  was  covered  with  earth,  but 
instantly  shown  to  the  authorities ;  and  at  this  period 
there  were  numerous  Christian  missionaries  in  China, 
who   had   an   opportunity  of  examining  it,  together 


with  natives  and  pagan,.  On  one  side  of  it  i,  the 
Chmese  znscnption,  in  twenty-eight  linos,  twenty,  i, 

cnaracte.s,  the  Syrian  ,s  on  the  right  side,  "omnrisod 
m  seventeen  characters.  The  nine  Chin.,!  °'"P"''^ 
at  thn  fn«    e  .u-  tJiincse  characters 

at  the  top  of  this  monument  read  thus:  "A  Tablet 
recording  the  introduction  of  the  religion  of  the  Ta! 
tsm  country  ,n  China."  It  commences  with  statinl 
the  existence  of  the  living  -nd  true  God  •  T.  ^^ 

r>r  fU„         n      ,         ,     "  true  uod     the  creation 

of  the  .^rld;  t  e  fail  of  man;  and   the  mission  of 
Jesus    Christ.      The   miraculous    birth    and    excellent 
teach.ng  of   the   Saviour  are   briefly   described.     H 
ascens.on   is   spoken   of;    the   institution   of  baptism 
mentioned;  and  the  cross  declared  to  be  effectual  fo^ 
the  salvation  of  all   mankind.     The  latter  part  of  the 
•  nscnption  states,  that  in  the  reign  of  Tan^.tae-Tsun,, 
A.   D.  eS6    a  Chnst.nn  te^tcher  came  from  Ta-tsin  to 
China;  ^vhere  the  eu,p.ror,  after  examining  his  doc- 
trnes,  published  an  edict.  nuthoriHing  the  pre.ch.ag  of 
Christianity  among  the  people.' 

Such  IS  the  description  of  this  i«iportant  relic  o' 
early  Christianity;  and  in  trhe  inserip^,^  the  Christian 
faith  ,s  called  the  "illu«trio.«  r.%io„."  The  men- 
tion of  this  interestisjT  4in<m'erj  m*jtr»]]j  ^ads  us  to 
consider  the  doctrinen  of  th^  tbree  pnnei^l  faiths, 
ethical  ana  religiou?   of  Ckmm, 

'•'Eeligion  has  always  ha4  »  gre»e  «W«  «  ^^ 
Olishing  the  greatest  kingdotnf,  which  cotiM  am«r  Mf. 
port  themselves,  were  not  the  people's  mind?  — ''  W^ 
tied  together  by  the  outward  worship  of  some 
people  are  naturally  superntifciou^,  and  ra^ 
guidance  of  faith  than  reason,     h  wm,  tWfore  f^ 


178 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TIIK  WORLD. 


this  reason^  that  the  ancient  lawgivers  always  made 
use  of  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  or  of  the  false 
maxims  of  idolatry,  to  bring  the  barbarous  nations 
under  the  yoke  of  thei.  government." 

So  says  the  worthy  Jesuit,  in  a  letter  to  Cardinal  de 
Bouillon,  and  we  may  conclude  that  his  observations 
are  correct,  as  they  savour  of  the  tenets  of  his  order. 
After  stating  that  Monotheism  had  lasted  for  many 
centuries  in  China,  he  continues  :— 

"  The  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  which  lasted  many 
ages  after  the  reigii  of  Cum  Vtim,  and,  in  all  proba- 
bility, a  long  while  after  the  time  of  Confucius,  was 
not  always  supported  in  the  same  purity.  Their  minds 
were  possessed  by  idolatry,  and  their  manners  became 
so  corrupt,  that  the  true  Faith,  being  but  the  occasion 
of  greater  ill,  was  by  little  and  little  taken  away  from 
them  by  the  just  judgment  of  God.  Among  all  the 
superstitions  which  followed  hereupon,  there  were  two 
sorts  which  were  principally  established,  and  do  be- 
tween them,  at  this  present  moment,  comprehend 
almost  all  the  empire." 

In  the  reign  of  Ting- Wang  (r»04  n.  c.)  the  founder 
of  tbe  Taou  philosophy,  Laou-Tszo  was  born,  and  the 
mannei'  of  his  birth  so  much  vcsemblcs  that  of  Diony- 
sos  (Bacchus')  as  to  justify  the  supposition  of  their 
identity.  M.  RSmusat's  remarks  on  his  history,  show 
clearly  that  the  major  part  of  the  biography  of  Laou- 
Tsze  is  mythical  and  mystical,  and  he  compares  him 
with  Pythagoras  (-jIO  b.  c,)  ;  but  a  new  I'fjht  could  be 
thrown  upon  the  whole  subject,  did  sprice  admit  of  it. 

Le  Compte  continues : — "  This  monster,  to  the  sorrow 
of  his  country,  survivel  his  mothci*,  and  by  his  perni- 


PEKING. 


179 


Clous  doctrine  in  a  short  time  grew  famous ;  nevertheless, 
he  wrote  several  useful  books,  of  virtue,  of  the  good  of 
avoiding  honour,  of  the  contempt  of  riches,  of  that  in- 
comparable retiredness  of  mind,  which  separates  us 
from  the  world,  the  better  to  know  ourselves.  He 
often  repeated  the  following  sentence,  which  he  said 
was  the  foundation  of  true  wisdom :  Eternal  reason 
produced  one  ;  one  produced  two  ;  two  produced  three  • 
and  three  produced  all  things:  which  seems  to  show 
as  if  he  had  some  knowledge  of  the  Trinity." 

That  the  doctrines  of  the  Taou  sect  originally  sprang 
from  some  mutilated  and  mystified  versions  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity,  there   is  high   doubt,  bnt  not 
Avhether  the  leading  notion  (if  it  be  not  derived  from  a 
common  source  with  the  Hellenic  and  other  legend- 
ary lore,)  was  obtained  from  the  prophetical  books  of 
the  Old  Testament,  for  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  that 
there  arc  many  Hebrew  MSS.  in  China,  and  now  fur- 
ther  say  that  they  have  been  there  for  many  centuries 
and  even,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter,  for  some  hundreds 
of  years  before  the  Christian  era.    I  translate  from  the 
Chniese,  a  passage  relative  to  the  doctrine  of  Taou. 

"The   Chinese   sect   Taou   affirm:    'Taou   brought 
forth  one;  one  brought  forth  two;  two  brought  forth 
three  ;  and  three  brought  forth  all  things.'    If  you  ask 
them  what  the  nature  of  Taou  (the  original  principle)  is 
they  reply :  '  Taou  is  extreme  stillness  or  a  condition  of 
perfect  rest.'     In  speaking  of  the  outward  forms  of  the 
three,  they  characterize  their  nature  as  '  the  heaven's 
adorning  principle,  earth's  vivifying  principle,  and  the 
pure  p"inc-ple  of  the  exciting  harraoniMng  wind;'  or  as 
It  is  deiiued  by  them,  '  That  aerial  cause,  or  principle 


180 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


by  means  of  which  the  heavens  and  the  earth  act  npon 
each  other.'  They  call  the  internal  Trinity, '  The  clear 
unmingkd  influence ;  the  spiritual  intelligence ;  the 
purity  of  essence;  in  the  midst  of  rest  the  yin  and 
yang  principles  separated.  Essence,  intelligence,  and 
influence,  together  worked  in  a  state  of  vacuum,'  " 

Such  is  the  clear,  and  intelligible  strain  of  the  Taou 
philosophy,  which  might  have  been  an  intelligible  phi- 
losophy at  the  time,  but  is  considered  obscure  at  present, 
from  the  tampering  of  time  and  unphilosophical  com- 
mentators.    To  return  to  the  account  of  the  Jesuit : — 

"  But  he  taught  that  God  was  corporeivl,  and  that 
he  governed  other  deities,  as  a  king  governs  his  sub- 
jects. He  applied  himself  mightily  to  chymistry,  of 
■which  some  pretend  he  was  the  inventor.  He  beat  his 
brains,  likewise,  about  the  pLilosophe-'s  otone  ;  and  did, 
at  length,  fancy,  that  by  a  certain  so-it  of  drink  one 
might  be  immortal.  To  obtain  which,  his  followers 
practise  magic,  which  diabolical  ari,  in  a  short  time, 
was  the  only  thing  studied  by  the  gentry.  Every  body 
studied  it  in  hopes  to  avoid  death ',  and  the  women, 
through  natural  curiosily,  as  well  as  a  desire  to  prolong 
their  life,  applied  themselves  to  it,  wherein  they  exer- 
cise all  sorts  of  extravagances,  and  give  themselves  up 
to  all  sorts  of  impieties. 

"  Those  who  have  made  this  their  professed  business, 
are  called  Tien-se,  that  is,  heavenly  doctors ;  they  have 
houses  given  them  to  live  together  in  society;  they 
erect,  in  divors  parts,  temples  to  Laokun  their  master ; 
king  and  people  honour  him  with  divine  worship  ,  and, 
althoi^h  they  have  examples  enough  to  have  unde- 
ceived thea  from  these  errors,,  yet  they  vehemently 


FEKINa. 


181 


puraue  immortality  by  his  Drerpnta  »i,«        i  t 

gain  it  himself/'         ^         ^     ^'''  ''^'  "''"^'^  "^^^^ 

;- An  interview,"  says   Martin,    "is  eaid  to  have 

:^r\fr:T7:J'''^-^'''  -^  confucius,^n:h: 

anTthe  la  ;:  t^'' Z:'t''"''''' T"'  '''^ 
iiiii  ly  uve.     jjaou-tsze  reproached  Con- 

oj  the  pompo-as  style  in  which  he  trave  kd  "d  th. 

Z      :'  '•'  ""'"=''•     •^''■''  ™  ™V  said    e 
loves  obscuntj;  so  far  from  courting  emploLents  hi 
shuns  them:  he  studies  the  times;  if  they  her„ntble 
he  speaks ;  ,f  corrupt,  he  yields  to  the  sto™.     fillt 
.s  truly  virtuous,  makes  no  parade  of  his  virtue    he 
does  not  proclaim  to  all  the  „orld  that  he  is  a  sLge 
Th,s  ,s  all  I  have  to  say  to  you ,  make  the  best  of  i 
you  cau       Confucius  said  of  Laou-tsze,  that  '  he  knew 
he  habus  of   irds,  beasts,  and  fishes,  ^nd  how  t,  takl 
_  ..m;  but  «  to  the  dragon,  he  could  not  understand 
ho«  ..  ,.,u,d  raise  itself  in  the  heavens.    He  had  seen 
i.aou-tsze,  who  resembled  the  dragon  '  " 

The  death  of  Laou-l,™  took  place  in  522  n,  c.    The 
portraits  of  the  impostor  woul.  make  him  a  European 
Ihe  most  impo,  an.  event  in  Chinese  literary  and 

bo  r       TV  "^  ■■"■■"' ''  ^^-S-f-'-e  (ConfuVu  )! 
both  in  Its  effects  on  i,„e  moral  organization  of  this 

h,"  eL:p:.""'  "'  ™ '"'  '"•'' "'  *^''™-  ?""-?■■? 

Cht?,!"'"';,-"  ^""S-f""-"^^  ('^l-  «  the  correct 
Ohinese  spelling,  meaning  "the  sage  Kung"  or  "the 
™e  excellence"),  was  of  royal  descent ;  and  hi,  fan^i; 
lie  most  ancient  m  the  empire,  as  his  genealogy  wal 
traceable  directly  up  to  Ilwang-te,  the  leputed^gln 


182 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


i«er  of  the  state,  and  first  ercpevor  of  the  semi-historical 
period  (beginning  2698  b.  c.  ).  The  father  of  Confu- 
cius was  Shih-Loang-Ho,  with  the  family  style  of  Kung. 
His  son,  Confucius,  was  the  child  of  a  second  marriage 
with  a  woman  named  Len-shc ;  who  being  of  a  pious 
turn  of  mind,  went  to  Ne-Kew,  and  prayed  to  the  All- 
perceiving  Divinities,  and  in  ten  months  had  a  son  in 
the  city  of  Tsow-yih  (now  called  Keu-foo-heen),  in 
Shantung  province,  who  received  the  name  of  Kew, 
and  style  of  Chung-ne.  This  took  place  in  the  twenty- 
second  year  of  Seang-Kung,  king  of  Loo,  the  twenty- 


|p«s=tt: 


PEKING. 


188 


first  ye^r  of  Emperor  Ling-wang,  the  18th  day  of  the 
eleventh  month,  in  the  forty-seventh  year  of  the  cycle 
answering  to  the  autumn  of  531  b.  c.     At  his  birtC' 

ThQ  frame  and  hiige  foun-iation  of  the  canh 
Bliak  d  like  a  cowai-J  ; 
"The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shuj.es  ; 
The  goat«  ran  from  the  mountains,  and  the  herds 
Were  strangely  clamorous  to  the  frighted  fields." 

A  prodigious  quadruped  called  the  Xe-lin,  appeared 
and  prophesied  that  the  new-born  infant  "  vouTd  be  a 
kmg  wu  out  throne  or  territory.-  Divers  indi  atln: 
of  scrofula  and  distortion  were  turned  into  miraculou 

distinctive  and  unusual  virtue.  Two  dragons  hovered 
a  out  the  couch  of  Yen-she,  and  five  celestial  sageT  J 
angels,  entered  at  the  moment  of  the  birth  of  the 
wondrous  child;  heavenly  strains  were  heard  in  the 

j::;:nlfl;~^^"'^'°^''^^^"--^-^^^t^^^^ 

Thus  was  Confucius  ushered  into  the  world,  in  which 
for  Chma,  and,  I  doubt  not,  eventually  for  the  western 
wo  Id,  he  was  destined  to  work  out  many  favourable 
and  miportant  changes.  On  the  similarity  between  his 
birth,  and  that  of  our  Saviour,  I  need  not  dwell 

His  father  died  before  he  was  three  years  old,  and 
he  was  left  unprovided  for;  but  his  mother,  who  sterns 
to  have  had  independent  property,  educated  him  with 
great  care  and  attention.  His  reverence  for  age,  even 
m  hzs  earliest  years,  seems  to  have  been  unbounded. 
At  seven  years  old  he  went  to  school,  and  his  learning 
and  talents  seem  to  have  raised  him  in  the  opinion  of 


184 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WOP  .D. 


every  one.  At  the  early  age  of  seventeen  be  obtained 
tbe  post  of  subordinate  surveyor  of  agricultural  pro- 
duce; the  duties  of  which  office,  contmry  to  the  gene- 
ral practice,  he  performed  himself,  without  the  aid  of  a 
deputy. 

In  his  nineteenth  year,  he  married  Ke-Kwan-she ; 
and  at  the  birth  of  his  son,  Pih-yu,  he  seei.s  to  have 
been  of  consequence  enough  to  attract,  as  Mniham 
did  on  a  similar  occasion,  the  attention  of  the  monarch 
of  Loo,  who  sent  him  a  present  of  a  carp. 

In  his  twenty-first  year,  he  rose  to  the  cunsidt  able 
office  of  surveyor  of  agricultural  live  stock,  retainin/' 
probably,  his  former  office.  In  this  post,  as  in  tl 
former,  he  gave  general  satisfaction,  and  introduceu 
much  reform;  so  that,  under  his  administratio  tlie 
country  became  twice  as  prosperous  as  before  his  ap- 
pointment. 

He  retired  from  public  life  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
tl'ree,  on  account  of  the  death  of  his  mother,  to  con- 
form to  the  three  years  mourning  customary  in  China ; 
smd  his  mother's  obsequies  appear  to  have  been  carried 
out  in  the  most  splendid  and  respectful  manner ;  for  it 
was  one  of  the  social  reforms  brought  about  by  him,  to 
treat  the  earthly  frame  of  man,  breathless  and  quies- 
cent, with  more  reverence  and  affection  than  before. 
His  example  soon  became  general ;  and  thus  one  im- 
portant object  of  his  mission  was  carried  out. 

The  three  years  of  mourning  and  seclusion  he  passed 
in  intense  study,  and  in  following  up  the  "  six  arts,"  viz., 
music,  ceremonies,  arithmetic,  writing,  the  use  of  wea- 
pons, and  the  art  of  chariot-driving.  At  this  period  he 
imbibed  a  taste  for  philosophy,  and  refused  to  return 


PEKING. 


185 


to  pubnc  pol.t,cal  lif^.  From  this  time  he  appears  in 
tho  character  of  ..  travelling  politician,  reforming,  on 
philosophical  principles,  the  abu.es  of  .  .y  or  every 
land  and  giving  advice  and  instruction  to  all.  Indeed 
his  house  appears  to  have  been  turned  into  a  kind  of 
Academus,  where  the  discuss^  n  "  -objects  in  ethics, 
hterature,  politics,  and  v .,  ,,,^  ^,,  .^.^ied  on. 

Every  person,  young  or  old  poor,  was  admitted, 

excepting  such  persons  as  I,       a  bud  character.     On 
being  questioned  as  to  Im       ,trine,  he  would  reply. 
My  doctrine  is  that  which  it  concerns  all  men  to  em- 
brace :  it  is  that  of  Yaou  and  Shun.     As  to  my  mode 
of  instruction,  it  is  quite  simple ;  I  cite  the  conduct  of 
the  ancients,  by  way  of  example ;  I  prescribe  the  study 
of  the  King  (Bou.   ),  and  reflections  upon  the  maxims 
they  contain."     Indeed,  the  object  of  the  philosopher 
was  rather  to  root  out  the  abuses  which  had  crept  into 
the  usages  of  the  country  than  to  introduce  new  matter 
for  speculation,  of  which  he  never  seems  to  have  been 
very  fond. 

On  his  return  to  the  kingdom  of  Loo  (in  B.  c.  511) 
he  applied  himself  to  the  revision  of  the  ancient  classic 
books.     He   reduced   the    She-king   (Ode-book)   from 
3000  poems  to  311;  he  -dited  the  Shoo-king  (Four 
books),  and  reduce  ^  the      imber  of  chapters  from  100 
to  50.     He  executed    aany  other  works  of  the  like 
nature;  but  these,  r    1  the  revision  of  the  very  ancient 
lih-king  (a  book  containing  an  account  of  the  myste- 
ries of  the  creation  and  of  early  religious  feelings), 
form  the  whole  of  the  works  which  have  come  down  to 
our  times;  for  his  treatise  on  music  (Yo-king,)  is  lost. 
"They  contain,"  says  PrSmare,  "the  whole  of  the 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


186 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Chinese  religion.  In  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  them 
may  be  foupd  the  principles  of  natural  law,  which  th? 
ancient  Chinese  received  from  the  sons  of  Noah.  They 
♦each  the  reader  to  know  and  reverence  the  Supreme 
Being.  Like  the  Patriarchs,  under  the  unwritten  law,  the 
emperor  is  both  king  and  pontiff.  To  him  it  belongs  to 
offer,  at  certain  times  of  the  year,  sacrifice  for  his  peo- 
ple ;  to  him  it  belongs  to  prescribe  ceremonies,  to  decide 
on  doctrines.  This  alone  can  be  called  the  established 
religion  of  China ;  all  other  sects  are  considered  by 
them  to  be  extraneous,  false,  and  pernicious,  and  are 
only  tolerated.  The  Christian  religion  was  declared 
lawful  by  a  public  edict :  in  a  subaequent  reign  it  was 
proscribed."  A  few  extracts  from  the  Ta-hio  (Impor- 
tant Doctrine)  will  show  the  bearing  of  Confucian  phil- 
osophy better  than  the  complctest  exposition  of  it : — 

"  The  path  or  course  of  learning  proper  for  men," 
says  the  Ta-hio,  "  consists  in  restoring  reason  to  its 
pristine  lustre;  in  renovating  others;  and  in  making 
the  summit  of  all  virtue  the  only  point  of  rest.  When 
the  mind  knows  its  point  of  rest,  it  is  decided ;  once 
fixed,  it  can  enjoy  tranquillity ;  and  thus  at  ease  view 
all  things  around  with  complete  self-possession,  thence 
maturely  weigh  their  nature  and  value,  and  finally  at- 
tain perfection  in  virtue.  Things  in  the  vegetable 
world  have  a  root,  as  well  as  branches  and  fruit ;  ac 
'ons  too  have  a  consummation,  and  also  a  source 
whence  they  spring.  He,  then,  who  has  formed  a  just 
idea  of  cause  and  effect,  has  made  a  near  approxi^jia- 
tion  to  the  path  which  leads  to  the  summit  of  virtue. 
:  .  .  From  the  Son  of  Heaven  even  to  the  common 
people,  one  rule  applies,  that  self-government  is  the 


root  of  all  virtue, 
renovation.'     The  Shee  sayg. 

•     •     •     -ine  bhee  says 

'See  on  yon  bank  of  the  meandering  Khee 

As  they  carve  and  defile  ivory 

As  they  cut  and  polish  the  pre'cious  gem,- 

How  exquisite !  how  severe  I 

How  resplendent  .'how  illustrious  I 

The  va-tucs  which  adorn  the  Superior  Man 

Can  never  become  a  prey  to  oblivion-         • 

the*  .an*;  wt?!"!?-'  '^'"^'  "  ^^^^^  ^^-- 
and  enjoy  nent      ni      5   ''^'  '"  "  '''''  '^  ^eedom 

without  hearin.^  /SI  P^^oemng,  may  listen 

"-»»-.    l::  Shee  sa^r  ''""™""«  "''"^  »  "^  «" 

•  The  peach  tree,  how  pleasant  ! 
Ite  leaves  how  blooming  and  luxuriant 


188 


aRBAT   CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


.  .  .  That  which  you  dislike  in  your  superiors, 
do  not  exercise  towards  your  inferiors ;  that  which  you 
hate  in  your  inferiors,  do  not  practise  towards  your  su- 
periors ;  that  which  is  disgusting  in  those  hefore  you, 
do  not  set  before  those  behind  you ;  what  is  unpleasant 
in  those  behind  you,  do  not  show  to  those  before  you ; 
what  is  base  to  those  on  your  right  hand,  do  not  mani- 
fest in  your  intercourse  with  those  on  your  left ;  what 
is  evil  in  those  on  your  left,  do  not  propose  to  those  on 
your  right  hand :  it  is  this  which  is  meant  by  that  line 
of  conduct  which  squares  perfectly  with  equity  and 
virtue.  .  .  .  When  the  sovereign  himself  reveres 
virtue,  it  is  impossible  that  his  subjects  should  forget 
the  respect  due  to  him.  When  the  people  duly  regard 
the  rights  of  the  sovereign,  it  is  impossible  that  the 
revenues  should  not  be  easily  collected ;  and  equally 
impossible,  that  a  revenue  thus  collected  without  ex- 
tortion, should  not  be  deemed  sacred  to  the  sovereign's 
use." 

Such  are  the  extracts  which  I  have  thought  best  to 
lay  before  the  reader,  and  from  these  passages  the 
genera]  tenor  of  the  Confucian  philosophy  can  fairly 
be  inferred. 


jenora, 
ich  you 
our  su- 
re you, 
leasant 
•e  you ; 
t  mani- 
;  what 
lose  on 
uit  line 
ty  and 
reveres 
1  forget 
regard 
lat  the 
3qually 
)ut  ex- 
reign's 

best  to 

;es  the 

fairlv 


J08ZPBD8. 


JERUSALEM. 

We  are  treading  on  holy  ground.  We  are  now  seeking 
by   he  too  feeble  efforts  of  the  pen,  to  truce  the  1  fe 

tel    thf  r      l^^'^P''^^^"^^;  ^ve  are  attempting  to 

earth,    he  narrat.ve  of  those  sufferings  which  the  Crea! 
tor  undenvent,  rn  order  to  save  us  frtm  suffering. 
The  history  of  Jerusalem  is  unlike  all  other  histories 

traffic"^    t  ""*  '"'^"^^^^  '^S^"*^  °f  th^  vilest 
traffic-there,  the  princes  of  the  mercantile  world-  in 


■«s=z: 


192 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


ono  place  robbed  of  the  commonest  rights  of  man,  in 
another  bartering  their  wealth  for  high  office — the 
Jews,  in  their  cast-oflF  condition,  with  all  the  oppro- 
brium earned  for  them  by  the  wilful  misdeeds  and 
self-inflicted  blindness  of  their  forefathers,  are,  even  in 
our  own  times,  a  riddle  that  few  can  solve — an  ano 
maly  wondrous  for  its  internal  consistency,  and  its 
outward  variance  with  every  other  existing  creed. 

The  first  notice  of  Jerusalem  in  Scripture  is  mys- 
terious and  interesting.  When  the  venerable  patriarch 
of  the  Jews  returned  from  his  victorious  pursuit  of  the 
kings  of  the  plain,  Melchisedec,  the  king  of  Salem, 
came  forth  to  meet  him,  and  in  his  twofold  capacity  of 
priest  and  king,  pronounced  a  solemn  benediction 
upon  the  victorious  emir.  Hereupon  Abraham  filled 
with  pious  gratitude  for  the  victory  he  had  won,  gave 
Melchisedec  "  tithe  of  all." 

Our  next  notice  of  Jerusalem,  under  its  proper  name, 
is  connected  with  the  alliance  of  Adoni-zedck  with 
other  kings,  in  a  fruitless  attempt  against  Joshua.  It 
is  again  mentior  ed  among  the  cities  of  Benjamin,  in 
describing  the  northern  boundary  of  Judah.  But  the 
most  important  event  before  the  time  of  David,  is  its 
capture  by  the  tribes  of  Judah  and  Simeon,  after 
which  time  we  find  the  Judahites  and  Benjamites 
dwelling  together  at  Jerusalem,  without,  however,  suc- 
ceeding in  driving  out  the  Jebusites. 

But  it  is  in  the  reign  of  David  that  Jerusalem 
begins  to  be  of  real  importance  in  history.  The  tribe 
of  Judah  could  proudly  point  to  Hebron  and  Macpelah 
as  places  of  high  and  holy  interest ;  and  their  influence 
had  developed  itself  in  a  series  of  attempts  to  act 


-  - — •■■ 

f  man,  in 

1 

fficc— the 

a 

le  oppro- 
eeds  and 

1 

e,  even  in 

■ 

— nn  uno 

mm 

,  and  its 

fl 

•ecd. 

■ 

0  is  mys- 
patriarch 

1 

nit  of  the 

1 

of  Salem, 

fl 

ipacity  of 
enediction 

1 

lam  filled 

1 

won,  gave 

1 

per  name, 
edck  with 

i 

)shua.     It 

1 

njamin,  in 
But  the 

■ 

ivid,  is  its 

eon,  after 

ienjamites 

irever,  suc- 

^ 

Jerusalem 

■ 

The  tribe 

Macpelah 
r  influence 

)ts  to  act 

JBKDSAIliH. 


IM 


property  of  Judah;  ud  although  the  Enhraiinii.. 
-.ght  01.™  Shiloh  .a  th«  pi  J  ^Z  IhTTo" 

Juaan  kept  the  pre-emmence.  Of  this  tribe  ..a 
Dav,d;  and  it  waa  thorefore  natural  that  he  would 
chooae  a  royal  oity  within  ita  torritoriea.  Jo^all"  " 
bcng  noarer  the  other  tribes  than  .nj  othe^wwl' 

raMy  qua!  fied  by  the  alrength  of  ita  situation,  enclosed 

on  three  a,des  by  a  natural  reneh  of  valleys,   klth.ugh 

e  D  v,„„  mandate  which  required  .11  the  adult  «ak, 

of  Israel  to  vs.t  the  place  of  the  Divine  presence  three 

tor  many-.n  inconvenience  which  seems  to  have 
paved  the  way  to  the  subsequent  revolt  of  the  ten 
tribes,  and  to  the  setting  n«\p  •  "*  '"e  len 

Be.bei.  still,  „;  rnj  pt  sir :  af  ir 

6y  the  immediate  communications  of  the  Deity,  must 

the  nwf  rt  ™'°"  *■"  "''""-S  Jorusaur  « 
the  place  which  was  to  become  the  glory  of  bia  own 

the^most  absorbing  revolution  that  ever  .gifted  the 

Of  Abraham  s  early  trial  of  faith,  was  chosen  by  God 

Za  f  r"«  '™P'».  «1'-«V  oonfirming  L^°e^ 
Dav«i  had  made.     Thus,  under  hi,  .ucceslr,  Je^T 


194 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


lem  beeame  not  only  the  royal  city,  but  the  very  seat 
and  centre  of  the  Jewish  theocracy — the  place  where 
the  Shechinah  sat  "between  the  cherubitns,"  where 
the  glory  of  the  face  of  God  ever  regarded  his  people. 
Tt  was  of  this  place  that  Moses  had  said  :  "  The  place 
which  the  Lord  your  God  shall  choose  out  of  all  your 
tribes  to  put  his  name  there  ;  even  unto  his  habitation 
shall  ye  seek,  and  thither  shalt  thou  come."  Its 
importance  was  not  political  or  commercial ;  but  it 
was  a  favoured  spot  invested  with  every  charm  of  piist 
promises  and  future  hopoa,  its  prospects  were  sub- 
lime, and  its  name  became  even  proverbially  signi- 
ficant of  the  state  of  joy  into  which  faithful  believers 
who  had  "persevered  unto  the  end,"  should  one  day 
enter. 

I  have  already  given,  in  my  arti(!lo  on  Palmyra,  a 
sufficient  account  of  the  policy  wWwh  actuated  Solomon 
in  the  administration  of  aflairs,  and  of  the  wealth 
which,  amassed  by  his  fatlicr,  his  own  management 
enabled  him  to  retain.  Jerusalem  presented  few  oppor- 
tunities for  the  exercise  of  diplomacy,  still  less  for 
matters  of  traffic.  Nevertheless,  thci-o  is  no  doubt 
that  the  magnificence  of  Solomon's  court,  honoured  by 
the  embassies,  sometimes  by  the  personal  visits  of 
royal  personages,  rendered  Jerusalem  a  centre  to  which 
the  rank  and  taste  of  the  wcaltliiest  classes  would 
naturally  direct  them.  The  detnils  respecting  the 
building  of  the  temple  furnish  us  with  a  probable 
notion  of  the  sumptuousness  which  would  prevail  in 
the  houses  of  the  great;  and  the  character  of  the 
imports  which  formed  the  leading  traffic  of  Solomon's 


u 


fpra—- 


I 
i 


-^•^•^Sf^SSsS^ 


JERUSALEM.  jg,^ 

the  mind  of  tU  ki„g  werTof  Jh.  ,    ",       ^7'""^°'"  *» 

form  a  co„spio„„„,  fc..re  rtl.r^,       "  """'"'  '" 
"on,  we  have  no  rJ.      I  °  cLaraclw  of  Solo- 

tho  strains  of  his  ro,,}  11        I     "'  ""''  '"'P"'«'> 

C"-.ing  out  thJ  d  £,'  ^trbad"r"'\''"'  °° 
most  at  Wart  will,  i.-      ■      I.       ''  '''''°  the  thing 

fo.-  the  braX™  Thi^'l-'"'"'""'"'''""-* 
businoss-like  disp  s  t'n  lo'u  b!  ""T""™  "'"' 
enforcing  .he  ready  ^021  „f  T"'  °"''"'  '" 
cently  conceived.    "Indi    ,        ,"  >"''"  "'  ""e"*- 

"-  had  finished  the  bni  dir:f'°.rb  ""^  '°'°- 
Lord,  and  the  iin,,'.  \      '"'"S,  "^  'he  house  of  the 

*ch  hew^pt  .Tdrth  tiLTr'' ""'" 

to  Solomon  a  second  tLT'     u     T  ,  ^'^'  appeared 
have  heard  thy  prayer  anS.K  T^   "'^*'   ^'"'^  ^ 

».oo  n-'-CtZrhrthX^^^^^^^^^ 

they  were  d«<.;,rn.»^  *    v  ®  "°*^  ^^^om 

'--.«t,ess?::z\„r;i?x:!;:;^ 


198 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


tion  of  the  ten  tribes :  but  the  imprudent  and  tyrannicai 
reply  of  the  new  king,  declaring  that  he  would  increase 
the  burdens  of  which  the  people  already  complained, 
no  doubt  accelerated  the  unfortunate  event.  Jerusa- 
lem thus  became  the  capital  only  of  the  small  state 
of  Judah;  and  when  Jeroboam,  the  king  of  the  new 
confederation  of  the  revolted  tribes,  set  up  symbolical 
images  for  worship  at  Dan  and  Bethel,  the  customary 
visits  to  the  house  of  God  were  discontinue*!,  and 
the  glory  of  the  temple  faded  like  that  of  the  city. 
Probably  as  a  rebuke  to  the  negligent  character  of 
Rehoboam,  who  showed  a  tendency  to  the  idolatry 
of  the  surrounding  nations,  Shishak,  king  of  Egypt, 
was  permitted  to  conquer  the  city,  and  pillage  the 
treasures  of  the  temple ;  and  under  succeeding  kings  it 
sustained  considerable  loss  and  spoliation. 

Ilezekiah,  a  prince  of  a  mild  yet  steadfast  policy, 
bestowed  great  pains  upon  the  improvement  of  Jerusa- 
lem, especially  by  stopping  the  upper  course  of  the 
Gihon,  and  bringing  its  waters  to  the  western  side  of 
the  city  by  means  of  a  subterraneous  aqueduct.  His 
son  Manasseh,  whose  earlier  reign  had  been  disgraced 
by  idolatry,  and  saddened  by  its  punishment,  showed 
his  repentance  at  a  later  period  of  life  by  adorning  the 
city  of  the  Lord,  especially  by  throwing  up  a  high 
wall  on  the  western  side. 

But  the  vacillating  and  fickle  minds  of  the  Jews, 
swayed  by  indolent  and  profligate  leaders,  fell  gra- 
dually deeper  and  deeper  into  the  defilements  of 
idolatry.  The  emphatic  behest  of  their  old  lawgiver, 
that  they  should  "observe  to  do  all  the  words  of  this 
law  that  are  written  in  this  book,  that  they  might  fear 


JERUSALEM. 


199 


tills  glorious  and  fearful  name,  the  Lord  thy  God  " 
was  forgotten  or  unheeded ;  and  the  threatened  scourge 
of  their  disobedience  descended  in  the  person  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, who  razed  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  to  the 
ground,  and  ravaged  its  temple  and  palaces  with  fire 
and  sword. 

In   the   fourth  year  of  the  reign   of  Jehoiachim, 
Jeremiah  having  vainlj  sought  to  withdraw  the  people 
from  their  sins,  God  commanded  him  to  write  in  a 
roll  all  the  words  of  prophecy  which  he  had  spoken 
against  Israel  and  Judah,  from  the  <      teenth  year  of 
Josiah's  reign,  when  he  was  first  called  to  the  pro- 
phetic ofiice.     Baruch,  his  scribe,  wrote  them   from 
his  master's  dictation ;  and,  as  Jeremiah  was  stiU  in 
prison  for  having  denounced  the  future  punishments 
that  awaited  the  Jews,  he  read  them  in  the  hearing 
of  all  the  people,  whilst  assembled  together  on  the 
great  day  of  expiation.     Ominous  was  the  choice  of 
this  day  for  the  declaration  of  prophecies  fraught  with 
so  much  of  pain  and  terror  I 

When  Judah  was  thus  transported  to  Babylon,  the 
other  ten  tribes  of  Israel  had  already  bewailed  for 
upwards   of    130  years    their   captivity   in  Assyria. 
Melancholy  wus  the  desolation  that  told  where  the 
conquering  host  of  Nebuchadnezzar  had  been.     The 
castle  of  David,  Solomon's  temple,  and  the  entire  city 
presented  nought  save  heaps  of  charred  and  blackened 
rums,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  holy  city  and  the 
chosen  people  of  God  had  come  to  an  end.     Yet  did 
the  Lord  "turn  again,  look  down  from  heaven,  and 
behold,  and  visit  this  vine." 
I  will  -It  enter  into  a  detailed  account  of  the  pro- 


ki- 


200 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


pheoieS)  which,  even  from  the  time  of  Moses,  had 
promised  the  restoration  of  the  Jews  to  the  land  from 
which  their  own  disobedience  had  estranged  them,  nor 
will  our  pages  admit  of  a  description  of  the  rarious 
circumstances  attendant  on  their  restoration  under 
Cyrus  and  Darius  Hystaspis.  Those  prophets,  who 
flourished  after  the  exile  to  Babylon,  unite  in  magni 
ficent  predictions  respecting  the  future  glory  of  tlie 
new  temple  and  city.  But  although  the  dimensions  of 
the  new  temple  probably  exceeded  those  of  the  one 
built  by  Solomon,  it  lacked  certain  features  by  which, 
in  happier  days,  the  favours  of  God  had  been  mani- 
festly and  immediately  declared.  The  Ark  of  the. 
Covenant  and  the  Mercy  Seat ;  the  Shekinah,  or  divine 
glory ;  the  Urim  and  Thummim  j  the  Holy  unquench- 
able fire  upon  the  altar ;  and  the  spirit  of  prophecy — 
all  these  gifts  had  departed  from  the  priesthood,  gifts 
for  which  no  grandeur  of  dimensions,  no  splendour  of 
decoration,  could  compensate.  Well  therefore  might 
God  say,  "  who  is  left  among  you  that  saw  this  house 
in  her  first  glory  ?  and  how  do  ye  see  it  now  ?  is  it 
not  in  your  eyes  in  comparison  of  it  as  nothing?" 

After  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  Ptolemy 
took  Jerusalem  by  surprise,  plundered  the  city,  and 
carried  many  Jews  into  captivity  in  Egypt.  Under 
the  mild  dominion  of  the  Ptolemies,  they  subsequently 
enjoyed  tranquillity,  and  an  uninterrupted  freedom  in 
following  their  own  religion.  At  the  termination,  how- 
ever, of  the  war  waged  against  the  Egyptians  and 
Antiochus  the  Great,  the  Jews,  who  had  latterly 
favoured  the  cause  of  that  enterprising  general,  were 
rewarded  by  him  with  several  important  privileges. 


1 


JERUSALEM. 


201 


He  directed  tnat  the  outworks  of  the  temple  should  be 
completed,  and  that  all  u,atcrial3  for  the  requisite 
repairs  should  be  exempt  from  taxation.  H  alsoTa  d 
particular  attention  to  enforcing  a  strict  observance  of 

to  ;::::r' "'  :s^  *^"^^*'-  ^^^  ^^'-^'^-^  -« ">- 

to  pass  the  sacred  precinct;  and  the  city  itself  was  to 

be  protected  from  the  pollution  of  bringing  th    flih 

sk.ns  of  unclean  beasts  within  its  walls. 

But  the  peace  and  tranquillity  which  the  Jews  had 
enjoyed  under  the  mild  and  liberal  sway  of  Ant^ochus 
was  not  of  long  duration.     Antiochus  E^phants  le" 

he  design  of  amalgamating  the  Jews  with  other  na- 
tions by  a  conformity  in  manners  and  religion :  in  a 
word     by   destroying    the    individualities   which    had 
mr  ed  the  Jews  for  a  distinct  and  exclusive  people 
To  the  jealous  conservative  principles  of  the  Jews,  any 
swerving  from  the  systems  of  their  forefathers  was 
odious  in  the  extreme,  and  those  Jews  who  seemed" 
favour  the  project  were  disgraced  and  expell  rlh 
Ignominy.     The  supposed  death  of  Antiochu's  n  EgTpt 

upon  the  Jews  for  the  rejoicing  to  which  they  had 
given  way  on  hearing  the  news.     Two  years  after,  dis 
appointed  m  his  attempts  against  Egypt,  he,  in  a  fit  of 
11-humour,  sent  his  chief  collector  of  a  tribute  Anol 
onius  with  22  000  men,  who  pillaged  the  c^t'S 
ts  walls  and  built  with  the  stones  a  citadel  that  over- 
looked the  temple  mount.     A  statue  of  Jupiter  was  set 
up  .n  the  temple,  and  daily  sacrifices  were  disconZ 
and  priests  and  people  sought  a  refuge  from  persecu- 
tion by  quitting  the  profaned  and  desolated  city 
At  this  juncture,  when  Jerusalem  seemed  well  nigh 


202 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


ruined,  and  when  God  and  man  alike  seemed  to  have 
left  her  to  her  fate,  one  of  those  wondrous  instances  of 
personal  valour  and  energy,  which  appear  at  rare  inter- 
vals in  the  pages  of  history,  assisted  the  progress  of 
mischief,  and  aroused  the  failing  spirits  of  the  Jews. 
The  name  of  the  Maccabees  must  live  forever  in  the 
annals  of  men's  best  deeds.  With  the  three  hundred 
at  Therraopyla;,  with  the  Fabii  of  old  Rome,  Judas 
and  his  valiant  followers  will  over  occupy  a  niche  in 
the  archives  of  history,  of  which  no  Avorthicr  claimant 
can  dispossess  them.  To  detail  the  instances  of  indi- 
vidual courage,  and  the  battles  sustained  by  this  little 
band  against  vast  hosts  of  barbarian  forces,  were  a 
fitting  theme  for  a  Macaulay.  After  a  fearful  scene 
of  struggle  and  slaughter  Jerusalem  was  retaken,  the 
temple  repaired  and  purified,  the  heathen  abominations 
cast  out,  and  the  original  worship  restored.  Neverthe- 
less, the  Syrians  retained  ])nssession  of  the  castle,  and 
proved  a  continual  source  of  annoyance  to  the  Jews  till 
B.  c.  142,  when  Simon  forced  the  garrit^on,  and  demol- 
ished the  castle.  He  then  fortified  the  mountain  on 
which  the  temple  stood,  and  built  there  a  palace  for 
himself,  which  became  the  regular  residence  of  the 
Maccabrean  princes.  John  llyrcanus  turned  this  into 
a  fortress,  which  is  called  by  Josephus,  "  the  castle  of 
Baris."  At  a  subsequent  period  it  was  strengthened 
and  enlarged  by  Herod  the  Great,  under  the  name  of 
the  castle  of  Antonia. 

In  the  summer  of  B.  c.  63,  Pompey  surprised  the 
Jews  whilst  celebratinf:;  a  solemn  fast  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  conquest  by  Nebuchadnezzar.  One  thou- 
sand two  hundred  Jev  a  were  massacred  in  the  temple 


i^ 


JBRU8ALBM.  j^g 

M  by  .ay  of  bre.ki„;i'lt™r„f'" '''"'''''' 
ment  under  Horod  ■-  ''°'"  '"  '"  "''"8«- 

«t  which  v..,;^  .be  rre;™'aii;twt":  T''--.' 

nate.     Of  theae  hill-    fi,  *  '"'ngrows  of  houses  term  - 

this  temple  at  first  •  h,.f Tf  •   u  °"°''  ^^°  ^""^ 

r*"  "•'  nrsc ,  but  it  is  by  us  palIo/1  <  *i, 

■narket-place.'  But  the  other  hUl  .VI.  "''''•'' 
'Acra,'  and  »„,tai„,  .h.  lotr  ci^"';  '?t  'I  °"""' 
'he  moon  .hen  she  is  horjd  7^^  risAv "!.'  °' 
«»  a  third  hill,  but  naturali;io^  /fh'r;      ''"" 

«p  .hat  va„:;tub  tttrTad  s  t""'-  'r 

city  to  the  temnle     ThL  1         *  ^"""^  *°  J^^^  *he 

height  of  Acrarfd  redLfd  tTo  IT  ""^^  ''''  ''  *^^ 
it  Tras  before  that  f hi  r    ,      •       ^®''  ^'^^"^^^O"  t^^an 

the  valleTof  tt  .W    "^^'  °^'«^*  ^^  '^^^^^  i*'    Now 
iey  of  th.  .heesemongers,  as  it  wa.  .aUed,  w  J 


rscrr 


200 


OllKAT  orTTRS  OB"  THW  WORI.n. 


tlmt  which  «liHtinKwiBl«cd  the  hill  of  tho  upper  city  IVom 
that  of  tho  lower,  ftiul  rxtoiidcd  ns  far  as  Siloam ;  for 
that  iit  tho  name  of  a  fountain  which  hath  swoot  water 
in  it,  nnd  thi«  in  j^roat  plenty  also. 

"  But  on  tho  outsitloB,  thono  hills  are  surnmnded  by 
deep  valleys,  and,  hy  reaHon  of  tho  preoi])icea  belonging 
to  them  on  both  Hides,  are  every  where  inipasriable." 
.,....*'  As  the  city  f.';r(>w  Jiiore  popnlous,  it  j:;rttdu- 
ally  crept  behind  its  old  limits,  and  Ihos,'  ]>arta  of  it 
that  stood  northward  of  the  temple,  iind  joined  that 
hill  to  the  city.  tiiadt«  it  connid(trnbly  liir}.'er,  mid  ocoa- 
siouod  that  hill  which  is  in  linniber  the  fourth,  nnd  is 
called  '  lU'iicthn,'  to  !»»>  iuliiihited  also.  It  lies  over 
ngainst  the  tower  Autonia,  but  is  divided  from  it  by  a 
deep  vaU«\v,  which  was  dug  on  purpose.  This  new  bnilt 
part  of  the  city  was  called  '  Mezetbc,'  in  <mr  Imigiuige, 
which  if  interpreted  in  the  iJreoian  language,  may  bo 
culled  'tho  new  eity.'  " 

The  Jews  were  at  first  afraid  of  Merod'M  proposal  to 
pull  ilown  tho  old  teniplc,  lest  he  should  not  be  able  to 
rebuild  it.  Ibit  he,  wishing  to  calm  their  foars  «ui  this 
head,  proujised  not  to  meddle  with  the  old  structure, 
until  the  uiaterials  were  collected,  a»id  the  arrangements 
xuapleted,  for  building  the  new.  .Inst  forty-six  years 
before  the  Hrst  passover  of  our  Lord's  ministry  was 
tho  work  couunenced,  and  oven  then  it  was  by  no 
nieans  finished.  Of  its  magnificence  Scripture  fur- 
nishes us  with  abundant  testimony,  and  a  I'agan  writer 
describes  Jerusalem  ai  this  period  as  '*  far  the  most 
splendid  city,  not  of  Judea  only,  but  of  the  whole 
Bust." 

But  tho  restoration  of  Jerusalem  to  a  state  of  gran- 


^s-'TMasii-mr^s 


JBRtJSALEM. 


2or 


procclo.!  if,  «poe.ly  extinction.    \Vel7Z        '    'T 

wi  :i;\,^:-;;i  :::;-'•••  "?-"^ 

awful  Hfi.rvof  tlio  ili.,iil.  .,r  II-        i  ""   ""> 

«t  Oalvarv    '',',".'."  """»'«»  Wood  „,  ,M 

l"«ton«„  „f  Cl,ri.f,  „„,t|,|  "'"""»'  f"--  "•■' 

'1""  ";«  -on  „f  ,„„„  ,,„Hod  forth  aZ"f  "Z    °'" 

-•J'  »■■;■"  "«  -"« 1  l"»  o,v„  roceC  L    0.°""' 

thai™    i:""n""  "™"™°'  ™'™«»  •»"  "-   uoUon 

exhausted  m  pouring  woos  upon  tl.o  devoted  citv     ihl 
^lc«porato  vnIo,„.,  stubborn  perseverance  and  bl  k"" 
cruolty  ^hich  anitnated  both  Bides    fi  1  tb«  7        7 
voluminous  history,  but  def,  detrip l^^^^^^^^^ 
most  detailed  character.  *^  *'''' 

A  few  families  still   remained  amid   the  ruin«  of 


iu==. 


208 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


position,  attempted  to  rebuild  Jerusalem  as  a  fortified 
city,  "with  a  view  of  keeping  the  Jews  in  check. 
Unwilling  that  strangers  and  heathen  deities  should 
again  defile  their  precincts,  the  Jews  broke  out  into 
open  rebellion  under  Barchochebas,  one  of  the  impostors 
who  had  pretended  to  be  the  Messiah.  They  were  at 
first  successful,  but  a  war  ensued,  little  inferior  to  the 
last  in  its  horrors,  and  Jerusalem  was  retaken  in 
A.  D.  135.  It  was  now  made  a  Roman  colony,  inha- 
bited wholly  by  foreigners,  and  it  was  made  death  for 
its  own  inhabitants  to  approach  it.  Mount  Moriah, 
where  Abraham  had  tamed  the  Jews  their  proud 
position  as  children  of  God,  was  now  the  site  of  a 
temple  to  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  Even  the  old  name 
was  supplanted  by  that  of  Aelia  Capitolina. 

Jerusalem  remained  a  blank  in  history  till  the  year 
A.  D.  326,  when  Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine, 
then  in  the  eightieth  year  of  her  age,  undertook  a 
pilgrimage  thither,  and  built  churches  on  the  supposed 
site  of  the  nativity  at  Bethlehem,  and  of  the  resurrec- 
tion on  the  Mount  of  Olives.  Stimulated  by  her 
example,  Constantine  commenced  an  eager  search  after 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  and  built  a  magnificent  church 
over  the  sacred  site,  which  was  solemnly  dedicated 
A.  D.  385.  One  day  in  the  year  the  Jews  were  permit- 
ted to  enter  the  city  to  bewail  the  desolation  of  "  the 
holy  and  beautiful  house"  in  which  their  fathers  had 
worshipped  God. 

In  the  succeeding  centuries  the  roads  to  Zion  were 
thronged  with  cavalcades  of  pilgrims,  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood abounded  in  monasteries,  filled  with  those  who 
had  changed  the  toils  and  vices  of  the  world  for  a 


JBRUSALBII, 

yoke  pressed  mth  »«v.       '^f  ""'•"'f  -nd  the  Moslem 
exorbitant  den,a„d.  of  .he  TuXT JJLT''  ""'' 

.ho  Khaiiffs  of  Egypt  i„  I ;  \;7t  ;l  rr"'' 

aiate  imnulsfl  tn  *>,o*  ^    .  "•"♦gave  an  imrne- 

b.™d  "rtraiL'ir  tr'"" "'";°'"'"'  "•■"  '>™ 
had  p.wo.„  <:!::::  :^v:r^;:x'r I 

."pport.  nisL:atd*"i;r- "■""""" " 

through   Pa,.ti„o,   had   ZZ'^tTZ'^rr 
harassment  and  Dersppiitlnn^        i  »"g«wh    the 

«>«.,  and,  MaSXr  h,"'  TdT  V"  ^'•"- 

K  do„b..o..  «ga.do/ari:°:xtn2.:''t'" 
^i-.god,  :h/':r;ut: ::  ri.tt  .f  °*\' 

coLan  s  to  d:i":r''i  "■■"•'"« »" 


tio 


QRKAT  CITIEd  OF  THE  WOULD. 


iriblch  ho  BP.id  was  wriiK'n  in  hoavcn,  and  addressed 
HWW  thrnce  to  all  true  OiristianSr  to  animate  their 
seal  fyi'  the  deliverance  of  their  brelij  n,  who  grouncd 
under  the  opprcsHive  harden  of  a  Mahometan  yoke." 

Urban  II.,  who  hud  probably  cared  very  little  about 
the  matter  previously,  no  sooner  found  that  the  work 
was  half  accomplished  than  lie  evinced  a  sudden  zeal 
for  the  undertaking.  Having  assembled  a  numerous 
synod  at  Placontia  (a.  h.  1095,)  ho  urged  the  holy 
carnage  with  all  the  authority  that  his  dignity  or  his 
eloquence  could  furniah.  Nevertholcsa,  a  great  part  of 
his  hearers  seemed  to  hang  back,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  council  held  at  Clonnont,  a  city  of  Auvergne,  that 
his  pompous  and  pathetic  language  had  the  desired 
effect. 

The  first  enterprise,  headed  by  Peter  the  Hermit  in 
person,  came  to  an  end  as  ridiculous  as  the  character 
of  the  troops  he  led  would  naturally  bind  one  to  expect. 
Drafted  off,  without  discrimination,  from  the  lowest 
ranks  of  society,  without  discipline,  and  without  any 
motive  save  the  hope  of  pillage,  this  "ragged  regi- 
ment" committed  such  enormities  during  their  march 
through  Hungary  and  Thrace,  that  they  were  soon  cut 
to  pieces.  No  other  result  could  have  been  expected 
from  the  idle  rabble  of  a  set  of  unprincipled  fanatics, 
headed  by  a  man  whose  enthusiasm  was  no  guarantee 
or  his  capability  to  command. 

But  ihe  Crusades,  fortunately  for  the  small  amount 
of  real  credit  they  deserve,  were  not  left  long  to  such 
conduct.  A  well  organised  force  of  80,000,  horse  and 
foot,  werfc  enlisted  under  the  command  of  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon   Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  his  brother  Baldwin, 


ssed 
heir 
med 

bout 
voik 
Kcul 
roua 
holy 
his 
t  of 
until 
that 
iired 

it  in 
ictcr 
■)ect. 
west 
any 
legi- 
iiirch 
1  cut 
jcted 
itics, 
intee 

lount 
such 
i  and 
sy  of 
iwin, 


_^J 


JERUSALEM. 


218 


and  va,iou8  other  detachments,  equally  well  headed 
contmuod  to  reinforce  the  expedition.  ' 

t  ,s  probable  that  few  persons  at  the  present  day 
ol  mncU  sympathy  in  the  motives  whichld  to  t  e 
^;'-usades,  or  m  the  ..ndortakin.  itself      ]J1^ 

<i         .         ,        '"'"•/  ciiiortaiu  ot  ear  y  history  wifli 

'"""'■  .J,""""'  g'S""'!"  bclily  strcglh  and  hcoio 
"  """"";«  ""  "'''■-...go,  wa,y  ;„  securing  h,^  o 

I  Ih,:  7  J^"'"'"""'  ™'"  "f  'I'"  ""."b.-noJ  force, 

ega   d,g„,ty  ihu,  „„„fcn-cd,  he  declined  tl,c  ,vmb„l  „f 
>^Uy,deda™g  .I,at  "it  were  .„„  g,.o„t  a .,,.,. 
torhm    0  be  crowned  for  glory,  in  ,l,at  city,  in  lui.h 
Ood  had  hcen   crowned    in  moekerv."     B  t  he 
.0.  dest.ncd  to  enjoy  hi.  honours  long,     A„  hercul     , 
-e  wa,  no  defence  again.st  ,he  4r  and  Z 
lu  1  sernee,   or  the  baleful  elTect.,  of  a  cliu.ate  ,o 
a.ae.-e..t  rr„,n  Li.  own,  and  he  died  eahnly  in  hil  h:a 


m 


\   < 


ULil 


214 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


the  next  year,  surrounded  by  weeping  friends,  and 
leaving  a  reputation  tarnished  witli  few  of  the  vices 
which  are  ever  wont  to  sully  the  name  of  conqueror. 

In  A.  D.  1187  the  Christians  lost  possession  of  Jeru- 
salem, and  the  Cross  was  jirostratcd  beneath  the  Cres- 
cent under  the  victorious  Saladin.  Richard  the  First 
proved  unsuccessful  in  his  attempts  to  wrest  the  holy 
city  from  the  hands  of  the  infidels,  Saladin  having 
strengthened  it  with  additional  fortifications.  Few 
events  of  importance  occurred  afterwards  beyond  the 
occasional  destruction  or  rebuilding  of  the  city  walls 
(according  to  the  policy  of  its  respective  Mohammedan 
masters ;)  and  although  mount  Zion  now  boasts  a 
Christian  church  capable  of  holding  TjOO  persons, 
although  a  bishoprick  has  boon  established  by  the 
Prussian  government  and  the  British,  Jerusalem  is  to 
this  dav  in  the  hands  of  the  Unfaithful. 

The  following  picture  of  Jerusalem,  as  seen  from  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  is  by  Buckingham  : — 

"  Reposing  beneath  the  shade  of  an  olive-tree,  upon 
the  brow  of  this  hill  (the  Mount  of  Olives,)  we  enjoyed 
from  hence  a  fine  prospect  of  Jerusalem  on  the  oppo- 
site one.  This  city  occupies  an  irregular  square,  of 
about  two  miles  and  a  half  in  circumference.  Its 
shortest  apparent  side  is  that  which  faces  the  east,  and 
in  this  is  the  supposed  gate  of  the  ancient  temple, 
now  closed  up,  and  the  small  projecting  stone  on 
which  Mohammed  is  to  sit  when  the  world  is  to  be 
assembled  to  judgment  in  the  vale  below.  The  southern 
side  is  exceedingly  irregular,  taking  quite  a  zig-zag 
direction ;  the  south-west  extreme  being  terminated  by 
the  mosque  built  over  the  supposed  sepulchre  of  David, 


--•  j-;.-.j-'j:rr- 


nds,  and 
the  vices 
lueror. 

I  of  Jeru- 

thc  Crcs- 
tho  First 

the  holy 
n  havinp; 
as.  Few 
yond  the 
3ity  walls 
ammedan 
boasts    a 

persons, 
[  by  the 
lem  is  to 

from  the 

ree,  upon 
)  enjoyed 
the  oppo- 
juare,  of 

II  ee.  Its 
cast,  and 

temple, 
stone  on 
is  to  be 
southern 
I  zig-zag 
nated  by 
•f  David, 


JERUSALEM. 


217 


on  the  summit  of  Mount  Sion.     The  form  and  exact 
direction  of  the  western  and  southern  walls,  are  not 
distinctly  seen   from   hence ;  but  every  part  of  this 
appears  to  be  a  modern  work,  and  executed  at  the  sane 
time.     The  walls  are  flanked  at  Irrcgulai-  distances 
by  square  towers,  and  have  battlements  running  all 
around  on  their  summits,  with  loopholes  for  arrows  or 
musketij  close  to  the  top.     The  walls  appear  to  be 
about  fifty  feet  in  height,  but  are  not  surrounded  by  a 
ditch.     The  northern  wall  runs  over  slightly  declining 
ground;  the  eastern  wall  runs  straight  along  the  brow 
of  Mount  Moriah,  with  the  deep  valley  of  Jehoshaphat 
below;  the  southern  wall  runs  over  the  summit  of  the 
hill  assumed  as  Mount  Sion,  with  the  vale  of  the  Hin- 
nora  at  its  feet;  and  the  western  wall  runs  along  on 
more  level  ground,  near  the  summit  of  the  high  and 
stony  mountains  over  which  we  had  first  approached 
the  town.     As  the  city  is  thus  seated  on  the  brow  of 
one  large  hill  divided  by  name  into  several  smaller 
hills,  and  the  whole  of  these  slope  gently  down  towards 
the  east,  this  view,  from  the  Mount  of  Olives,  a  position 
of  greater  height  than  that  on  which  the  highest  part 
of  the  city  stands,  commands  nearly  the  whole  of  it 
at  once. 

"On  the  north  it  is  bounded  by  a  level  and  appa- 
rently  fertile  space,  now  covered  with  olive-trees,  par- 
ticularly  near  the  northeast  angle.  On  the  south, 
the  steep  side  of  Mount  Sion,  and  the  valley  of  Hinnom 
both  show  patches  of  cultivation,  and  little  garden 
enclosures.  On  the  west,  the  sterile  summits  of  the 
hills  there,  barely  lift  their  outlines  above  the  dwell- 
ings.    And  on  the  east,  the  deep  valley  of  Jehoshaphat, 


1 


218 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


now  at  our  feet,  has  some  partial  spots  reliered  bj 
trees,  though  as  forbidding  in  its  general  aspect  as  the 
vale  of  death  would  evfer  be  desired  to  be  by  those  who 
have  chosen  it  for  the  place  of  their  interment. 

"Within  the  walls  of  the  city  are  seen  crowded 
dwellings  remarkable  in  no  respect  except  being  ter- 
raced by  flat  roofs,  and  generally  built  of  stone.     On 
the  south  are  some  gardens  and  vineyards,  with  the 
long  red  mosque  of  Al   Sakhara,  having  two  tiers 
of  windows,  a  sloping  roof,  and  a  dark  dome  at  one 
end,  and  the  mosque  of  Sion  and  the  sepulchre  of 
David  in  the  same  quarter.     On  the  west  is  seen  the 
high,  square  castle,  and  palace  of  the  same  monarch, 
near  the  Bethlehem  gate.     In  the  centre,  rise  the  twci 
cupolas  of  unequal  form  and  size ;  the  one  blue,  and 
the  other  white,  covering  the  church   of  the   Holy 
Sepulchre.     Around,  in  different  directions,  are  seen 
the  minarets  of  eight  or  ten  mosques,  amid  an  assem- 
Wage  of  about  two  thousand  dwellings;  and  on  the 
east,  is  seated  the  great  mosque  of  Al  Harren,  or,  as 
called  by   Christians,  the  mosque  of  Solomon,  from 
being  supposed,  with  that  of  Al  Sakhara  near  it,  to 
occupy  the  site  of  the  ancient  temple  of  that  splendid 
and  luxurious  king." 

"  The  Christian  pilgrim,  approaching  Jerusalem  for 
the  first  time,  will  probably  be  disappointed  to  find 
that  his  emotions,  on  the  first  sight  of  a  city  associated 
in  his  mind  from  his  earliest  infancy  with  all  that  is 
most  sacred,  are  so  much  less  intense  than  he  antici- 
pated, and  that  he  can  look  upon  Mount  Olivet  and 
Mount  Sion  with  feelings,  certainly  not  of  indifference, 
but  of  much  less  painful  interest  than  he  imagined 


=J 


L  «te«. 


JERUSALEM. 


219 


truth  »,  the  eventa  tranaactcd  he,o  are  »o  greal  i„ 
every  v,e^  that  the  „,i„d  ca„„„,  .t  „„,e  grasp  .h«^ 
but  «  a»  ,t  were,  ,tupi6ej  by  the  effort,  h  take   tte 
to  reah.e  the  truth,  that  t!u»  ia  .h„  ho„    „f  gcr  p  „"e 
J.,  ory,    ho  cradle  of  the  Christian  Church.     bTZ 
fcehng  of  attachment  to  the  Holy  City  and  its  sacrc, 
oc.:,t,c.,  «1  soon  be  forced,  and  will  be  deepened  by 
I  m.  ,0  a  calm  satisfaction,  a  peaceful  resting  in  it  as 
he  home  of  one's  affections,  .hich  no  other^po    on 
earth  can  .rnpart.    For  there  is  a  halo  about  Jerusa  em 
an  atmosphere  which  one  drinks  in,  not  onWon    hj 
«un,a,ns  around  but  even  an,id  its  crumb  Jgr„i„s 
which  has  an  untold  charm.  ' 

"Journeying  from  the  west,  tlio  traveller  will   come 
m  sight  of  the  citj  about  a  mile  from  the  gates,  whel 
It  presents  Us  least  imposing  aspect-merely  a  d'uU 
0    wall,  wnh  the  Mount  of  Olives  rising  above. 

th    n'-tr,   T  T^  ''  *'^  '^^^^«^«  'pP---oe  of 
neighbourhood  of  the  city:  it  is  sometimes  said  to 
res  mblo  a  cty  of  the  dead.     Travellers  who  have  so 
wn  ten  must  have  been  singularly  unfortunate  ^th 
time  of  the  year;  nothing  can  well  be  imagined  more 
ively    han  the  scene  without  the  Jaffa  Gate,     ^t 
then   that   the  inhabitants,   of  whatever   nation   and 
whatever  faith,  walk  out  to  ^Irink  the  air,'  as  th  y 
express  it;  and  the  various  companies  ma^  be  seen 
sauntering  about  or.  reclining  on  the  ground.     The 
appearance  of  the  females,  indeed,  is  somewhat  spec- 

hani         !.  '^'''    *^'°^^"    ^''''^y   °^^r   their 

handsome  dresses,  and  their  yellow  hoots,  is  all  that 

'8  distinguishable  ;  but  the  merry  kugh  may  be  heard 


220 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


among  them,  and,  with  the  music  of  their  fa  skiing 
ornaments,'  would  serve  to  convince  the  stronger  that 
they  were  veritable  daughters  of  Eve.  He  will  see 
little  of  the  desolation  of  Jerusalem  hero :  but  let  him 
enter  the  gates,  and  the  delusion  which  its  compact 
and  well-built  walls,  and  the  appearance  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, may  have  produced,  will  be  quickly  dispelled. 

"  He  no  sooner  enters  the  city  than  desolation  stares 
him  in  the  face.  The  citadel  on  his  right  hand,  which 
showed  fair  from  a  distance  is  a  ruin  and  patchwork — 
a  Roman  tower,  with  mediaeval  additions  and  Turkish 
debasements,  erected  on  a  massive  foundation  of  Jewish 
architecture.  On  his  left  he  will  have  an  open  space 
covered  with  ruins ;  and  as  he  passes  through  the 
streets,  he  will  find  scarcely  a  house  that  is  not  a  ruin, 
and  in  some  parts  huge  bulks  of  massive  wrecks ;  as, 
for  example,  the  Hospital  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John, 
and  the  so-called  Palace  of  Helena.  But,  indeed,  this 
may  be  said  of  almost  any  eastern  city.  It  is  the 
peculiar  province  of  the  Turks  to  lay  waste  what  other 
ages  have  built  up.  But  let  him  examine  more  closely : 
he  will  find  traces  of  former  greatness,  and  even 
grandeur,  here  and  there,  handsome  Saracenic  fount- 
tains,  now  dry;  some  few  traces  of  gothic  architec- 
ture, more  of  Roman,  and  here  and  there  fragments 
of  a  Greek  cornice  or  capital,  lying  neglected  on  the 
side  of  the  street,  or  built  into  modern  hovels,  without 
any  regard  to  their  proper  position;  and  shafts  of 
columns  of  costly  marbles  jutting  out  from  the  walls 
in  various  parts,  all  attesting  its  greatness.  Or  let 
him  repair  to  any  spot  near  the  walls,  where  excava- 
tions may  perchance  be  carrying  on  for  the  erection 


ikukling 
linger  that 
^e  will  see 
jut  let  him 
;s  compact 
its  inhabi* 
spelled, 
tion  stares 
ind,  which 
tchwork — 
id  Turkish 
I  of  Jewish 
>pen  space 
rough  the 
not  a  ruin, 
recks ;  as, 

St.  John, 
ideed,  this 

It  is  the 
what  other 
re  closely : 
and  even 
snic  fount- 
!  architec- 
fragraents 
ted  on  the 
Is,  without 
shafts  of 

the  walls 
3.  Or  let 
re  excava- 
le  erection 


JERUSALEM. 


221 


CRD8AI.HM  OW  THIIB  lUROH  TO  mmiUI 


19* 


i 


S  M  Y  U  N  A  . 

AD  tJio  sitoa  of  tho  "seven 
oliurclios"  presented,  eitlier 
in  t!i(>ir  roniiiiiia  or  tlieir  his- 
tory, (Minnl  matter  of  interest, 
I  yliould  liave  united  them 
together  in  one  cliiipter ;  but, 
since  the  materials  for  tlio 
description  of  some  of  them 
A  are  meagre  and  insufiicient,  1 
have  preferred  treating  sepa- 
rately of  a  few  of  the  most 
distinguished. 

The  origin    of  Smyrna  is 
replete  Avitii  the  same  uncer- 
tainty  of  tradition    tliat   in- 
\^-j^]Vi;:^  volves    tlio   early  history  of 
other    nations    in    obscurity. 


KMYUNA. 


228 


Tantalus,  tho  son  of  Jove,  whow  punishment  hag  riven 
rise  to  one  of  our  most  trito  proverbial  phra»c»,  is  the 
myth.cal  founder  of  thi«  city.  The  wealth  and  com- 
mcrcal  influence  of  tho  ancestor,  of  Agamemnon  ,.111 
be  noticed  when  we  come  to  «peak  of  Myccna;,  but 
then-  connection  with  Smyrna  in  too  limited  and  doubt- 
ful to  require  our  attention  hero. 

Up  to  the  time  of  Alexander  tho  (ircat,  Hmyrna, 
wluo  I  had  been  de«troye<l  by  tiM,  Lydian«,  lay  waste 
and  desolate;  but  it  was  rebuilt,  and  under  the  earlier 
Roman  emperors  it  was  regarded  ax  one  of  the  finest 
cities  of  Asia.     It  was  at  this  peri^  when  u  was  at 
tho  height  of  prosperity-when  itn  inhabitants  were 
enjoying  tho  vicious  pleasures  for  which  their  ill-dirccted 
industry  and  enterprise  had  furnished  tho  wcans-that 
fet.  John  addressed  the  Christian  (jimrch  at  Smyrna 
but  h.3  words  furnish  little  clew  to  the  character  of  tho 
Smyrna^ans  as  a  people.     There  ix,  however,  great 
reason  to  believe  that,  whatever  may  have  been  tho 
vices  of  tho  Smyrnicans,  they  evinced  a  read/  and 
receptive  spirit  towards  Christianity. 

In  A.  D.  177,  it  was  destroyed  by  an  earthquake; 
and  though  Marcus  Aurclius  rebuilt  it  on  a  grander 
scale  of  splendour  than  before,  it  wa»  continually  ex- 
posed  to  the  ravages  of  earthquakes  and  conflagrations, 
and  gradually  declined  from  its  ancient  importance  and 
prosperity. 

In  considering  the  magnificence  of  thu  city  in  its 
ancient  condition,  we  have  one  important  difficulty  to 
contend  with.  Convulsions  of  nature  have  rent  asunder 
the  site  upon  which  it  stands,  and  have  led  to  conse- 
qucnt  removals,  calculated  to   obliterate  itf  earlier 


Ik^ 


^ 


i 


224 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


MARCVI  ADRKUUI.     mOH  A  COIX. 


boundaries.  Again,  although  "few  of  the  Ionian 
churches  have  furnished  more  relics  of  antiquity  than 
Smyrna;  the  convenience  of  transporting  them,  with 
the  number  of  investigators,  have  exhauste J  the  mine ; 
it  is  therefore  not  at  all  wonderful  that  of  the  porticoes 
and  temples  the  very  ruins  have  vanished ;  and  it  is 
now  extremely  difficult  to  determine  the  sites  of  any 
of  the  ancient  buildings,  with  the  exception  of  the 
stadium,  the  theatre,  and  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Acracus, 
which  was  within  the  Acropolis." 

A  recent  writer  on  British  India,  who  has  visited 
the  interesting  locality  of  the  seven  churches,  has  de- 
scribed the  present  appearance  of  these  early  scenes  of 
the  Gospel  progress  in  a  manner  happily  blending 
classic  associations  with  the  more  solemn  recollections 
to  which  they  must  naturally  give  rise.  We  cannot  do 
better  than  proceed  in  his  own  words : — 

"  The  first  of  the  churches  to  which  my  Journeying 
led  me,  and  which  had  been  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  seven,  was  Smyrna.  The  peculiar  felicity  of  the 
situation  of  this  place  still  retains  and  seems  always  to 
have  retained,  a  certain  degree  of  commerce,  and  its 
natural  consequences,  population  and  prosperity.     But 


the  Ionian 
ntiqufty  than 
<^  them,  with 
C(I  the  mine; 
the  porticoes 
!(!;  and  it  is 

sites  of  any 
ption  of  the 
pitcr  Acracus, 

3  has  visited 
ches,  has  de- 
rly  scenes  of 
lily  blending 
recollections 
Ve  cannot  do 


SMYRNA. 


225 


these  are  merely  conparative,  and  to  exalt  Smyrna 
she  must  be  compared  with  the  present  depopulated, 
wretched  condition  of  the  districts  that  surround  her, 
and  not  to  herself  or  to  the  cities  of  her  neighbourhood 
at  the  period  preceding  the  date  of  tho  awful  prediction 
of  her  ruin.     At  the  more  ancient  epoch  referred  to. 
Smyrna  was  the  admiration  of  a  most  ingenious  people, 
who  possessed  the  fine  arts  in  a  perfection  we  have 
Btill  to  see  equalled;   her  lofty  Acropolis  bore  whole 
quarries  of  marble  on  its  proud  brow;  temples  and 
Btoas,  theatres  and  a  library  covered  the  bold  aides  of 
the  hill,  facing  the  clear  deep  bay,  a  fitting  mirror  for 
80  much  grace  and  beauty ;  her  crowded  but  elegant 
houses  descend  in  gentle  parapets,  from  the  heights  of 
Mount  Pngus,  and  strotchod  to  the  banks  of  the  sacred 
Melcs;  whilst  far  beyond,  an  avenue  of  temples  and 
tombs,  villas  and  baths,  extended  in  the  direction  of  a 
modern  village,  called  Bouinibat ;  in  short,  ancient  de- 
scription, the  glorious  site  of  the  place  as  we  now  see  it, 
and  the  beauty  that  remains  of  sculpture  and  building 
occasionally  discovered,  combine  to  justify  tho  high 
titles  with  which  she  was  honoured,  and  to  prove  that 
Smyrna  was  indeed  '  the  lovely,  the  crown  of  Ionia, 
the  ornament  of  Asia.'     Now,  compared  to  this,  what 
I  saw  did  not  seem  of  a  character  in  tho  teeth  of  pro- 
phecy.    Her  Acropolis  was  bare,  or  only  marked  by 
the  walls,  with  many  a  yawning  fissure  between  them; 
of  the  ancient  fortifications,  of  temples,  or  other  edifices 
of  taste  or  grandeur,  were  there  none ;  the  Turkish 
houses,  that  seemed  sliding  down  the  hill,  were  mean, 
filthy,  and  tasteless:  and  every  here  and  there  an  open 
space  with  smoked  and  blackened  walls  around  it,  gave 


J 


226 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


evidence  of  recent  conflagration;   narrow  and  difty 
streets  led  me  to  the  Moles,  tho  sacred  and  Homer's 
own  river,  according  to  Smyrngean  tradition;  and  I 
found  the  stream  foul  and  wholly  insignificant;  the 
avenue  beyond  it  could  merely  be  traced  by  the  occa- 
sional obtrusion  of  a  block  of  marble,  or  the  base  of  a 
wall,  which,  indifferent  to  their  ancient  destination,  the 
indolent  Turks  used  as  stepping-stones  to  mount  their 
horses.     The    only    buildings   were    the    Mahometan 
mosques ;  and  the  voices  of  the  Muerrins  from  their 
minarets  seemed  to  proclaim  tho  triumph  of  the  cres- 
cent over  the  cross,  and  to  boast  of  the  abasement  of 
the  church  of  Christ  in  one  of  its  high  places.     The 
Christians,  divided  by  heresies  and  feuds,  were  merely 
tolerated  on  the  spot  where  the  church  had  been  all 
triumphant,   and   the   Greek,  the    Catholic,   and   tho 
Armenian  offered  up  their  devotions  in  narrow  temples, 
that  were  fain  to  hide  their  diminished  heads.     It  re- 
quired the  skill  of  an  antiquary  to  trace  the  walls  of  the 
church  on   the   side   of  Mount  Pagus,   where   Saint 
Polyoarp    and   others    saffered    martyrdom.     Nobody 
attempted  to  show  me  the  site  of  the  original  metro- 
politan temple,  but  every  step  I  took  offered  me  evi- 
dence of  that  destruction  and  humiliation  foretold  by 
the  inspired  writer.     An  infidel  barbarous  race,  the 
Turks,  whose  existence  was  not  even  known  in  the  days 
of  the  prophecy,  were  masters  or  tyrants  of  the  fair 
country ;  and  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  Smyrna,  or 
the  small  portion  of  them  that  remained,  had  passed 
into  the  hands  of  foreign  trades— some  of  them  from 
countries  considered  in  a  state  of  unimproveable  bar- 
barity, or  altogether  unknown,  when  the  prediction 


and  dirty 
d  Homer's 
>n;  and  I 

icant;  the 
'■  the  occa- 
I  base  of  a 
lation,  the 
lount  their 
lahometan 
from  their 
'  the  cres- 
Lsement  of 
ces.  The 
ire  merely 
I  been  all 

and  the 
iv  temples, 
Is.  It  re- 
alls  of  the 
sre  Saint 
Nobody 
al  metro- 
J  me  evi- 
'retold  by 
race,  the 

the  days 
*  the  fair 
nyrna,  or 
d  passed 
lem  from 
able  bar- 
rediction 


SMYRNA. 


227 


was  uttered-for  English,  Dutch,  and  Armenians  were 
the  most  mfluential  of  the  number.    The  red  hand  of 
the  Osmanlis  had  very  lately  waved  over  the  devoted 
city,  and  if  slaughter  had  ceased,  a  pestUential  fever 
engendered  by  the  putrid  waters  and  filth  about  the 
town,  daily  thinned  its  inhabitants.     The  productions 
of  art,  of  the  pencil  or  chisel,  were  looked  for  in  vain 
m  Smyrna,  that  had  been  art's  emporium—in  Smyrna, 
whose  ancient  coins  and  medals,  and  other  exquisite 
fragments,  have  partially  furnished  half  of  the  numer- 
ous cabinets  of  Europe.     The  voice  of  music  was  mute, 
the  converse  of  philosophy  was  no  more  heard,  and  of 
a  certainty,  Smyrna  was  in  the  days  of  tribulation  with 
which  she  had  been  threatened." 


i 


EPHESUS. 


WILL  not  entertain  my 
readers  with  the  romantic 
deeds  and  legends  of  tlic 
Amazons,  who  possess  tlie 
mytliical  claim  to  be  the 
founders  of  the  old  capital 
of  Ionia.  Situated  on  the 
banks  of  tke  Cayster,  not  far  from  tho  coast  of  the 
Icarian  sea,  between  the  flourishing  city-states  of 
Smyrna  and  Miletus,  it  at  an  early  period  acquired  a 
position  second  to  none  of  the  Greek  cities  of  Asia 
Minor. 

The  classical  celebrity  of  this  city  is,  however,  mainly 
owing  to  the  fame  of  its  temple  of  Diana,  and  for  the 
enthusiasm  and  magnificence  with  which,  up  to  a  very 
late  period,  the  worship  of  that  goddess  was  cel«brated. 
Such  was  this  temple,  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
cherished  poet  of  Ptolemy's  court,  "  tho  morn  shall 
(228) 


'-^ 


EPHESU8. 


229 


behold  nought  more  divine  or  sumptuous ;  yea  it  mi^ht 
oven  surpass  the  shrine  of  Pythian  Apollo/'  '         ^  * 

-.1.  the  fate:  1^3"    tt"''  'VnT'^'rr'  "^ 

magnificence    wn     '  "  7%  ''''''^^' "^  '''"^''^'^t 

si  ucence,   wa,     totally   destroyed   bv   firo       T?,„ 

beer  „eo„s  .„„,/„„:  IL  ..""^'Ltf  eL" 
»Ppa,-o,U  neglect  of  the  gocUlesa,  it  was  g^.e„  Zt 
l).a»„,  ,„  I,er  c„p„ci,3,  of  the  miJwifo-goddes"   wL  L„ 

J  T..™  .0  refuse  Alexander  an  „„,ranee  into  thei 
/  *      r"  V  """""'"S  '»  Hereules-deelined 

received  divine  encouragement  from  the  goddess,  when 


280 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


he  was  well  nigh  driven  to  suicide  by  the  difficulties  jf 
the  undertaking. 

In  considering  the  greatness  of  Ephesus,  her  high 
claims  to  skill  for  the  refinements  and  taste  for  the  arts 
of  life  cannot  be  denied,  although  there  is  little  reason 
to  believe  that  she  ever  possessed  an  original  school  of 
art,  or  sought  to  elevate  the  character  of  the  inhabitants 
above  the  standard  of  an  artificial  and  pleasure-seeking 
disposition.  They  doubtless  possessed  many  features 
in  common  with  the  Alexandrians,  amongst  which  a 
taste  for  mystical  religion,  and  for  the  idle  impositions 
of  magic,  are  amongst  their  least  creditable  points  of 
resemblance.  The  burning  of  the  books*  of  magic, 
recorded  by  the  pen  of  St.  Luke,  was,  however,  a 
powerful  evidence  of  their  capability  for  receiving  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  and  abandoning  the  parapher- 
nalia of  idolatry. 

If,  however,  we  consider  the  number  of  adventurers 
who,  in  all  ages,  and  at  no  period  more  than  on  that 
occasion  when  the  Truth  himself  had  shcne  forth  to 
dissipate  the  clouds  of  error  which  hung  over  the  heads 
of  offending,  suffering  humanity — if  we  reflect  upon 
the  pretended  skill  in  such  arts  attributed  to  Solomon, 
and  claimed  as  derived  from  him  by  a  set  of  speculative 
Jews,  who  had  leavened  the  Law  with  the  corrupt 
practices  of  Paganism — It  will  appear  highly  probable 
that  an  under-current  of  political  manoeuvring  may 
have  been  mixed  up  with  the  principles  that  raised  the 
cr^^  ''Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,"  and  raised 
so  formidable  an  opposition  to  the  hitherto  successful 
preaching  of  Paul. 

*  Acts  xiz.  19. 


difficulties  }f 

3U3,  her  high 
te  for  the  arts 
3  little  reasop 
nal  school  of 
le  inhabitants 
isure-seeking 
nany  features 
ngst  which  a 
e  impositions 
.ble  points  of 
3*  of  magic, 
I,  however,  a 
receiving  the 
he  parapher- 

adventurers 

than  on  that 

icne  forth  to 

ver  the  heads 

reflect  upon 

to  Solomon, 
)f  speculative 

the  corrupt 
jhly  probable 
euvring  may 
at  raised  the 
and  raised 
to  successful 


EPHEStJS 

The  "Ephe8ia„  letter,"  appear  to  me  to  have  been 
«,■  am  „„3o„,o  ,ig„,  eonneeted  with  thi,  underha'S 
sy,  e„ of  po,,tic,,  a,  well  a,  charmsor  a™„le.,  dtS 
to  .a,po,e  upon  the   ijle  .„po.„i„-„„  „f  .^,    ^r 

f  T "°  "°™' ''r  ^'■"' '»" '■-P«""K  their  effiea' 
as,  for  .nstance,  that  rten  a  Milesian  ami  a„  Ephe  i?„' 
were  wres.  ,„g  i„  the  Olympic  gatoes,  the  former  old 
gam  no  advantage,  till  ho  deprived  his  advlrlry  of 
se.=  of  these  charms,  which  he  wore  hound  rn/hll 

„l,?rf "'  u''""™""'  '"  '™«"'able  superstitions  and 
childish  enthusiasm  in  favour  of  a  mi«..i;,„         I 

hand     I  wdl  merely  observe  that  we  know  too  H  tie 

of  fheE;tsT;:sZdTb '""  *°  ^"""^  *°^  -»'* 

.othingLn^rra^tL  ■^ira^rt^h''"^^ 
the  student  of  Pa^an  snlpn^  ^''^  S"^^^« 

known   world       f  Th?   \  T  '"^  ''''^  ^""'•^^^  "^^  ^^^^ 
fh.,V       "f "°"'  P^OPJ^'  and  inhabiting  the  wreck  of 

Xf SeS  :tr  r  ^ «'-'°-' 

tue/raisea,  some  beneath  the  vaults  of 


282 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  TUB   WORLD. 


the  stadium,  once  the  crowded  accno  of  their  diversions , 
and  some  in  the  abrupt  precipice,  in  the  sepulchres  which 
received  their  ashes.  Its  streets  are  obscured  and 
overgrown.  A  herd  of  goats  was  driven  to  it  for 
shelter  from  the  sun  at  noon ;  and  a  noisy  flight  of 
crows  from  the  quarries  seemed  to  insult  its  silence. 
We  heard  the  partridge  call  in  the  area  of  the  theatre 
and  the  stadium.  The  pomp  of  its  heathen  worship  is 
no  longer  remembered;  and  Christianity  which  was 
there  nursed  by  the  apostles,  and  fostered  by  general 
Councils,  until  it  increased  to  fulness  of  stature,  lingers 
on  in  an  existence  hardly  visible." 

But  if  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants  is  desolate, 
how  much  more  desolate  is  the  picture  presented  by 
the  ruins  of  its  buildings  !  Arundell,  whose  Christian- 
like and  tasteful  observations  on  the  seven  churches 
have  deservedly  attracted  the  notice  of  the  best  judges 
of  this  department  of  topographical  history,  sums  up 
the  present  state  of  the  great  city  of  Diana  in  the 
following  melancholy  and  reflective  terms  : — 

"  What  would  have  been  the  astonishment  and  grief 
of  the  beloved  Apostle  and  Timothy,  if  they  could  have 
foreseen  that  a  time  would  come  when  there  would  be 
in  Ephcsus  neither  angel,  nor  church,  nor  city — when 
the  great  city  would  become  'heaps,  a  desolation,  and 
a  dry  land,  and  a  wilderness ;  a  land  wherein  no  man 
dwelleth,  neither  doth  any  son  of  man  pass  thereby.' 
Once  it  had  an  idolatrous  temple,  celebrated  for  its 
magnificence,  as  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world ;  and 
the  mountains  of  Coressus  and  Prion  re-echoed  the 
shouts  of  ten  thousand,  *  Great  is  Diana  of  the 
Ephesians !'     Once  it  had  Christian  temples,  almost 


ir  diversions , 
ulchrcs  which 
)bscurcd  and 
en  to  it  for 
oisy  flight  of 
It  its  Bilcnce. 
•f  the  theatre 
en  worship  is 
y  which  was 
;d  by  general 
ature,  lingers 

i  is  desolate, 
presented  by 
>3C  Christian- 
ven  churches 
0  best  judges 
ory,  sums  up 
)iana  in  the 

mt  and  grief 
ey  could  have 
lerc  M'ould  bo 
?  city — when 
isolation,  and 
jrein  no  man 
ass  thereby.' 
rated  for  its 
3  world ;  and 
3-echoed  the 
iana  of  the 
iples,  almost 


KPIIKPT'S. 


283 


malhng  the  Pagan  ,n  splen.lour,  wherein  the  image 
that  fell  from  Jupiter  lay  prostrate  before  the  cross 
and  as  many  tongues,  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  made 
public  avowal  that  '  Great  is  the  Lord  Jesus  !'  Once 
n  had  a  bishop,  the  angel  of  the  Church,  Timothy,  the 
disciple  of  St.  John ;  and  tradition  reports,  that  it  was 
honoured  with  the  last  days  of  both  these  great  men, 
ana  the  mother  of  our  Lord." 

"Some  centuries  passed  on,  and  the  altars  of  Jesus 
wei-e  again  thrown  down  to  make  way  for  the  delusions 
of  Mahomet ;  the  cross  is  removed  from  the  dome  of 
tl.o  church,  and  the  crescent  glitters  in  its  stead,  while 
within,  the  k(ibld  is  substituted  for  the  altar." 

"  A  few  years  more,  and  all  may  be  silence  in  the 
mosque  and  the  church.     A  few  unintelligible  heaps  of 
stones,  with  some  mud   cottages   untenanted,  are  all 
the  remains  of  the  great  city  of  the  Ephesians.     The 
busy  hum  of  a  mighty  population  is  silent  in  death. 
Ihy  nchcs  and  thy  fairs,  thy  merchandize,  thy  mariners, 
and  thy  pilots,  thy  caulkers,  and  the  occupiers  of  thy 
merchandize,  and  all  thy  men  of  war  are  fallen.'     Even 
the  sea  has  retired  from  the  scene  of  desolation,  and  a 
pestilential  morass,  with  mud  and  rushes,  has  succeeded 
to  the  waters  which  brought  up  the  ships  laden  with 
merchandize  from  every  country." 
^^  No  less  feeling  is  the  folIoAvmg  passage  of  Gibbon  :- 
In  the  general  calamities  of  mankind,  the  death  of 
an  mdmdual,  however  exalted,  tne  ruin  of  an  edifice 
however  famous,  are  passed  over  with  careless  inatten- 
tion.    Yet  we  cannot  forget  that  the  temple  of  Diana 
at  Jiphesus,  after  having  risen  with  increasing  splendour 
from  seven  repeated  mis^^-^nes,  was  finally  burnt  by 


L 


284 


GKKAT   CITIES   OF  TIIK  WORLD. 


■  ;   I 


the  Goths  iu  the  tliird  naval  invasion.     In  the  third 
century,  the  arts  of  Greece,  and  the  wealth  of  Asia, 
had   conspired    to  erect  tluit  sacred  and  magnificent 
structure.     It  was  supported  by  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
poven  marble  columns  of  the  Ionic  order.     They  were 
the  gift  of  devout  monarchs,  and  each  was  sixty  feet 
high.     The  altar  was  adorned  with  the  masterly  sculp- 
tures of  Praxiteles,  who  had,  perhaps,  selected  from 
the  favourite  legends  of  the  place,  the  birth  of  the  divine 
children  of  Latona,  the  concealment  of  Apollo  after  the 
slaughter  of  the  Cyclops,  and  the  clemency  of  Bacchus 
to  the  vanquished  Amazons ;   yet  the  length   of  the 
temple  of  Ephesus  was  only  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  feet,  about  two-thirds  of  the  measure  of  St.  Peter's 
at  Rome.     In  the  dimensions,  it  was  still  more  inferior 
to  that  sublime   production   of  modern  architecture. 
The  spreading  arms  of  a  Christian  cross  require  a  much 
greater  breadth  than  the  oblong  temples  of  the  Pagans ; 
and  the  boldest  artists  of  antiquity  would  have  been 
startled  at  the  proposal  of  raising  in  the  air  a  dome  of 
the  size  and  proportions  of  the  Pantheon.     The  temple 
of  Diana  Avas,  however,  admired  as  one  of  the  wonders 
of  the  world.     Successive   empires,  the  Persian,  the 
Macedonian,  and  the  Roman,  had  revered  its  sanctity 
and  enriched  its  splendour.     But  the  rude  savages  of 
the  Baltic  were   destitute  of  a  taste  for  the  elegant 
arts,  and  they  despised  the  ideal  terrors  of  a  foreign 
superstition." 

Thus,  then,  is  this  scene  of  Christian  developement 
laid  bare  and  desolate ;  thus  is  her  glory  departed, 
and,  to  conclude  in  the  words  of  an  excellent  writer  of 
modern  times,  "  however  much  the  church  at  Ephesus 


J 


EPIIESUS. 


235 


may  in  its  .  arliest  days,  have  merited  praise  for  its 
noiks  labour  an.l  patience,' yet  it  appears  soon  to 
have  'left  .ts  first  love,'  and  to  have  received  in  vain 
ho  admomtion-*  remember,   therefore,  from  whence 
thou  nrt   alien,  and  repent  and  do  the  first  works  ;  or 
else  I  will  come  unto  thee  quickly,  and  will  remove  thy 
candlestick  out  of  his  place,  except  thou  repent.'     If 
any  repentance  was  produced  by  this  solemn  warnin;? 
Its  effects  were  not  durable,  and  the  place  has  lonj 
since  offered  an  evidence  of  the  truth  of  prophecy,  and 
the  certainty  of  the  Divine  threatenings,  as  well  as  a 
melancholy  subject  for  thought  to  the  contemplative 
Christian.    Its  fate  is  that  of  the  once  flourishing  seven 
churches  of  Asia  :  its  fate  is  that  of  the  entire  country 
-a  garden  has  become  a  desert.     Busy  centres  of 
civilization,  spots  where  the  refinements  and  delights 
of  the  age  were  collected,  are  now  a  prey  to  silence, 
destruction,  and  death.     Consecrated  first  of  all  to  the 
purposes   of   idolatry,   Ephesus  next    had    Christian 
temples  almost  rivaling  the  pagan  in  splendour,  wherein 
the  image  of  the  great  Diana  lay  prostrate  before  the 
cross;  and,  after  the  lapse  of  some  centuries,  Jesus 
gives  place  to  Mahomed,  and  the  crescent  glittered  on 
the  dome  of  the  recently  Christian  church.     A   few 
more  scores  of  years,  and  Ephesus  has  neither  temple 
cross,  crescent,  nor  city,  but  is  a  'desolation,  a  dry 
and,  and  a  wilderness.'    Even  the  sea  has  retired  from 
the  scene  of  devastation,  and  a  pestilential  morass, 
covered  with  mud  and  rushes,  has  succeeded  to  the 
waters  which  brought  up  ships  laden  with  merchandize 
Irom  every  part  of  the  known  world." 


IIURNIKU   OK  aAlmm   WI   TIIK  UIIKUKtl. 


SARD  IS. 


H 


J  ■! 


JpjREAT  US  wove  (lie  sins  which 
dchasod  tholivcdy  aritl  ciirnost 
dispositions  of  tho  10|)h("<i!ms, 
scvoro  as  was  tho  puiiishniont 
which  has  bci-n  grathially 
M'orkodout  in  tlio  extirpation 
and  casting  down  of  tho 
nionwnuMits  of  oxphxled  i(h)la- 
trv,  and  in  the  substitution 
of  a  mixed  popuhition,  in  ii  state  of  poverty  and 
ignorance,  for  tho  eh^gant  and  tasteful  lonians  of  oUl 
— tho  same  important  lessons  aro  drawn  in  stronger 
colours  in  the  ruins  which  adorn  tho  miserable  villajie 
of  Sait,  which  cover  the  site  of  tho  capital  of  Crwsus, 
of  that  king  whose  vanity  suffered  so  heavy  a  correction 
in  the  fearful  vicissitudes  which  formed  tho  melancholy 
conclusion  of  tho  prosperity  in  which  ho  had  so 
haughtily  trusted. 
(236) 


f  sins  wliicli 
aiid  cnrnost 
>  Kplic^ians, 
iniiiishinont 
grjulniilly 
extirpation 
wii  of  tho 
lodotl  idola- 
suhstitution 
i0V(>i'ty  and 
lians  of  old 
in  stronger 
able  villaire 
of  Crwsus, 
I  correction 
melancholy 
lio   had  so 


U^ 


Il 


flARDIS. 


289 


H.d  Solon,  or  whoever  it  was  that  bade  the  woud 
k.ng  of  Lyd»  await  the  end  ofjifebefore  he  j„d/ed„f 

of"  tlT  I      r^' '"''' '°  ''"'""''  "■«  »-"o-d'romna„. 
0  .hi  d  71""'^:"°  trea,nre.ci.y,  which  retail 
to  this  day,  he  would  have  marvelled  at  the  wondro,,, 

prmees.  Despite  the  romance  with  which  the  artless 
narrafvo  of  Herodotus  is  invested,  and  although  "„ 
chnology  tends  to  cast  a  doubt  upon  the  wholfst.rv 

WUh  the  A  henmn  sage  realised  in  what  wo  now  behold 
of  Sard,s,  that  w„  m„,t  fain  wish  to  believe  it  even 
where  we  are  bound  to  doubt. 
Long  and  spirited  was  the  resistance  which  the  then 

onslaught  of  Cyrus.  Enormous  wealth,  which  had 
from  the  days  of  Gyges  been  proverbial,  h  d  made  it  a 
fittmg  object  of  cupidity  to  the  succcssfLl  revoluUon It 
who  had  ousted  his  grandfather,  A.tvages  from  Tie 
Me  .an  throne     Its  situ.ti.     '.befrofMo 

ret'or/ac  :o'i:  rr  i'  '-^  rF^ 

interest.anditwou,d'hlvrmld;a«tt;:?r:Len:' 
even  for  the  monarch  of  .he  wide  Persfan  estate! 

tbe  arst  Persmn  war  against  the  Greeks.  Heeren  has 
well  described  tliis  aa  the  "ar„„^  „i,-  .  «"«"  "as 
interest  A,*  „  ?■     ,f     *      "  °''J*°'  "f  common 

interest  that  was  wanting"  to  proven,  the  conscciuenoe, 

"thTs  J  f  ??"""'•  "^'""""St,"  he  eon.inues 

this  did  not  produce  that  union  of  the  whole  Greek 

n«.on,  which  a  grea.  man  had  conceived    wSo« 


240 


QKKAT   CniliS   Oi'   TJ  E   WORLD. 


I  i 


ill' 


iiifl' 
ilif 


believing  in  its  possibility,  yet  the  whole  condition  of 
Greece  in  succeeding  ages,  her  foreign  and  domestic 
relations,  were  all  a  consequence  of  it ;  and  we  do  not 
say  too  much  when  we  assert,  that  by  it  the  political 
character  of  Greece  was  formed." 

The  surprise  of  Sardis  by  the  lonians,  under  Aris- 
togoras,  and  its  subsequent  destruction  by  an  accidental 
*fire,  proved  the  grand  provocative  to  the  Persian  power, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  temple  wCyb(^l(i  was  after- 
wards made  a  pretext  for  violating  and  firing  the  shrines 
of  the  gods  of  Greece,  when  the  Persians  were  as  yet 
unrcpresscd  in  their  victorious  progress.  But  although 
the  Athenians  afterwards  abandoned  the  loniana,  and 
refused  to  send  them  succour,  Darius  took  little  notice 
of  the  lonians,  when  he  heard  of  the  destruction  of 
Sardis,  but  having  taken  a  bow  and  arrows,  he  hit  fly  a 
shaft  towards  heaven,  exclaiming,  "  0  Jove,  grant  that 
I  may  revenge  myself  on  the  Athenians  !"  And  lest 
ho  should  forget  the  reprisals  he  hoped  to  make,  a 
favourite  attendant  was  desired,  every  time  dinner  was 
set  before  him,  to  say  throe  times,  "  Sire,  remember 
the  Athenians." 

We  find  little  of  interest  in  the  subsequent  history 
of  Sardis.  Like  a  number  of  its  neighbours,  it  yielded 
to  the  Macedonian  conqueror,  who  treated  its  inhabi- 
tants with  much  favour,  admitting  Mithrcnes,  the 
governor  of  the  citadel,  into  the  number  of  his  private 
associates,  and  employing  him  on  confidential  errands. 
Having  ordered  a  temple  to  be  erected  to  Jove,  on  the 
site  of  the  ancient  palace  of  the  Lydian  kings,  he  left 
Pausanias  as  governor,  permitting  the  inhabitants  to 
live  freely  after  their  accustomed  laws  and  manners. 


8ARDIS. 


241 


Sardis,  however,  rapidly  declined,  viien,  after  the 

of  Asa  Mmor,  To  become  the  province  of  a  large" 
Btate  to  change  from  the  dimensions  of  a  widely-spreal 
bngdom  to  those  of  a  mere  village,  itself  the  tributary 
of  an  arbitrary  and  marauding  power,  with  a  nominal 
and  purposeless  subjection  to  some  larger  and  better 
organized  state,  which  has  too  Uttle  interest  in  its 
provinces,  or  has  too  much  to  take  care  of  already- 

case  of  half  the  most  glorious  cities  of  antiquity. 
Sardis  IS  no  exception.  The  haughty  palatial  city  of 
the  Lydian  empire  ha4  long  since  parted  with  her  na- 
tionalty ;  the  gradual  introduction  of  Persian  manners 
and  customs  had  depraved  her  once-hardy- soldiers: 
and  thi3  ancient  kingdom  passed  through  all  the  stages 
of  degradation  which,  when  we  view  their  ruins,  w^ 
perceive  was  consummated  throughout  the  cities  of 
Asia  Minor. 

The  calamities  of  nature  were  added  to  the  destruc- 
tive influence  of  demoralizing  man.  An  earthquake 
had  reduced  it  to  a  Iieap  of  ruins,  when  the  emperor 
Tiberius  ordered  it  to  be  rebuilt.  From  various  local 
traditions,  however,  and  from  the  careful  surveys  that 
recent  travellers  have  made,  it  seems  probable  that 
many  interesting  relics  of  the  ancient  city  were  pre- 
served, and  that  the  work  of  repair  was  performed  witb 
some  regard  to  the  preservation  of  Lydian  associations 
of  an  earlier  date. 

As  the  seat  of  a  Christian  church,  the  Scriptural 
notices  of  Sardis  are  limited  to  the  rebukes  addressed 


\  I 


242 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


to  its  inhabitants  by  St.  John,  which  are  sufficient  to 
show  that  it  had  declined  much  in  faith,  and  that, 
although  it  still  maintained  the  name  and  outward 
form  of  a  Christian  church,  it  was  as  one  "  having  a 
name  to  live,  while  it  was  dead." 

Macfarlane  furniSi^ies  the  following  pleasing  account 
of  his  visit  to  the  ruined  capital  of  Lydia : — 

"The  country  I  traversed,  the  luxuriant  vales  of 
the  Caicus  and  the  Hermus — two  noble  rivers — was 
almost  as  deserted  and   melancholy  as   the  regions 
between  Smyrna  and  Pergamus;  but  nothing  that  I 
had  yet  seen  equalled  the  desolation  of  the  city  of 
Sardis.     I  saw  from  afar  the  lofty  Acropolis,  fringo-J 
with  crumbling  ruins;  and  when  I  crossed  a  braiich 
of  the  Golden  Pactolus,  which  once  flowed  through  the 
agora,  market-place ;  and  when  I  stood  there  at  eleven 
o'clock— the  very  hour  in  which,  in  its  ancient  days, 
the  place  would  be  crowded— I  saw  not  a  soul,  nor  an 
object  of  any  sort  to  remind  me  that  this  solitude  had 
been  a  vast  and  splendid  city,  save  here  and  there  a 
patch  of  ruin,  a  dismantled  wall,  or  a  heap  of  stone 
and  brick  work  mixed  with  brambles  and  creeping 
weeds.     Where  palaces   and  temples,   theatres    and 
crowded  habitations  had  stood,  a  green  and  flowery 
carpet  of  smooth  sward  met  the  eye;  and  the  tall, 
stately  asphodel,  or  day-lily,  gleamed  in  its  beauty 
and  pallidness  where  the  marble  column  had  risen  in 
other  days.     The   brook— for  the  Pactolus  is   now 
nothing  more  th»n  a  brook,  and  a  choked  and  insig- 
nificant one— gently  ' babbled  by;'  a  cool  breeze  blew 
from  the  snow-covered  Mount  Tmolus,  which,  if  I 
may  be  permitted  to  use  the  poetical  language  of  the 


lU 


•flBMHR 


Sicilians   as  applied  to  Etna,  stood  like  TArciprete 
de  monti,  che  in  cotta  bianca,  al  ciel  porge  ,VnclT' 
facng  me  far  across  the  plain.    This  bL'e  „  d 
along  the^stcep  rough  sides  of  the  Acropolis,  and  sighed 
-ong  the  underwood  that  grew  thickly  at  its  foot 
Other  sounds  there  were  none,  save  now  and  then  the 
ne.gh,ng  of  n,y  horse,  who  crushed  the  flowers  and 
scented  turf  beneath  his  hoof,  and  gave  utterance  to 
he  contentment  and  joy  suggested  by  such  fair  pas! 
tare.     This  utter  solitude,  and  in  such  a  place    in 
he  agora  of  the  populous  Sardis,  became  oppresJive. 
I  would  have  summoned  the  countless  thousands  of 
ancient  Lyd.^s  that  for  long  centuries  had  slept  the 
sleep  of  d.         .eneath  that  gay  green  sward :  spirits 
m.ght  hav.  ^..a.Ked  there  in  broad  noon-day-so  sHen 
void,  awful  was  the  spot !    Here  the  hand\f  des tru^! 
tion  had  spared  nothing  but  a  few  rent  walls,  which 
remained  to  tell  all  that  had  been  done;  wer'e  th^ 
no    there,  the  eye  might  pass  over  the  plain  and  the 
hill  as  a  scene  of  a  common  desert,  and  never  dream 
that  here  was  the  site  of  Sardis !     The  Pagan  temple 
and  the  Christian  church  had  alike  been 'desolated 
the  architectural  beauty  of  the  one,  and   the  pure 
des^nation  of  the  other,  having  been  all  inefficacious 
for   heir  preservation      Four  rugged,  dark,  low  walls, 
by  the  side  of  a  little  mill,  represented  the  church- 
and  two  columns  erect,  and  a  few  mutilated  fragments 
ot  other  columns,  scattered  on  the  sward  or  sunk  in  it 
were  all  that  remained  of  that  « beautiful  and  glorious 
edifice,  the  temple  of  Cybele  at  Sardis !    At  fhe  mill 
by  the  church,  I  met  two  Greeks,  and  these,  I  believe 
formed  the  resident  Christian  population  of  this  once: 


244 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


! 


distinguirhed  city  of  the  Lord.  From  the  mill  I  could 
see  a  gruiip  of  mudhuts  on  the  acclivity  under  the 
southern  clifFs  of  the  Acropolis — there  might  have 
been  half  a  dozen  of  these  permanent  habitations, 
and  they  were  flanked  by  about  as  many  black  tents. 
A  pastoral  and  wandering  tribe  of  the  Turcomans 
dwelt  here  at  the  moment;  and  the  place  almost 
retained  the  ancient  name  of  the  city — they  called  it 
Sart.  Well  might  the  Christian  traveller  exclaim 
here — 'And  what  is  Sardis  now?  Her  foundations 
are  fallen;  her  walls  are  thrown  down.'  'She  sits 
silent  in  darkness,  and  is  no  longer  called  the  lady  of 
kingdoms.'  '  How  doth  the  city  sit  solitary  that  was 
full  of  people!'" 

I  may  conclude  my  notice  of  Sardis  with  the 
following  reflections  of  an  equally  thoughtful  eye- 
witness : — 

"Beside  me  were  the  cliffs  of  Acropolis,  which, 
centuries  before,  the  hardy  Median  scaled,  while  leading 
on  the  conquering  Persians,  whose  tents  had  covered 
the  very  spot  on  which  I  was  reclining.  Before  me 
were  the  vestiges  of  what  had  been  the  palace  of  the 
gorgeous  Croesus ;  within  its  walls  were  once  congre- 
gated the  wisest  of  mankind — Thales,  Cleobulus,  and 
Solon.  It  was  here  that  the  wretched  father  mourned 
alone  the  mangled  corpse  of  his  beloved  Atys ;  it  waa 
here  that  the  same  humiliated  monarch  wept  at  the 
feet  of  the  Persian  boy,  who  wrung  from  him  his 
kingdom.  Far  in  the  distance  were  the  gigantic 
tumuli  of  the  Lydian  monarchs,  Candaules,  Halyattes, 
and  Gyges ;  and  around  them  were  spread  those  very 


SARDIS. 

plainB  once  trodden  by  tho  countless  hosts  of  Xeracs 
when  hurryng  on  to  find  .  sepulchre  a.  Marath™       ' 
There  were  more  varied  and  more  vivid  remem- 
brances  associated  with  the  sight  of  Sardis,  thanTuTd 
poss.Wy  be  attached  to  any  other  spot  of  earth    b« 
all  were  mingled  with  a  feeling  „f  discust  at  tb! 
Meness  of  human  glory;  all-fu  had  pCd  away 
There  were  before  me  the  fanes  of  a  ieJ^^L 
tombs  of  forgotten  monarchs,  and  the  palm-tr  e  .hal 
waved  .n  the  banquet  hall  of  kings;  while  the  fceL' 


VODIKN  QREtK  COSTDICI. 

21* 


Il  I 


THYATIRA. 


HYATIRA  can  hardly  be 
considered  one  of  the  great 
cities  of  the  worhl  with 
respect  to  its  magnitude 
or  importance  ;  but  it 
possesses  a  certain  degree 
of  interest  from  having 
been  the  seat  of  one  of 
the  Seven  Apocalyptic  Churches. 

This  ancient  city  still  survives  as  an  inhabited  site, 
under  the  Turkish  name  of  Ak-hissar,  or  the  "  white 
castle."  It  cannot  however  compare  with  the  two  other 
inhabited  sites,  being  greatly  inferior  to  Pergamos,  and 
immeasurably  so  to  Smyrna.  In  ancient  remains  it  is 
poorer  than  any  of  the  seven.  It  is  situated  about 
twenty-seven  miles  to  the  north  of  Sardis,  and  is  thus 
noticed  by  Pliny  Fisk,  the  American  missionary: — 
"  Thyatira  is  situated  near  a  small  river,  a  branch  of 
the  Caicus,  in  the  centre  of  an  extensive  plain.  At 
the  distance  of  three  or  four  miles  it  is  almost  completely 
surrounded  by  mountains.  The  houses  are  low  ;  many 
of  them  of  mud  or  earth.  Excepting  the  motsellim's 
palace,  there  is  scarcely  a  decent  house  in  the  place. 
The  streets  are  narrow  and  dirty,  and  every  thing 
indicates  poverty  and  degradation.  We  had  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  Economo,  the  bishop's  procurator, 


r 


hardly  be 
•f  the  great 
'orhl  with 
magnitude 
;  but  it 
ain  degree 
»m  having 
of  one  of 

bited  site, 
lie  "  white 
!  two  other 
;amos,  and 
mains  it  is 
,ted  about 
,nd  is  thus 
iionary: — 
branch  of 
)lain.  At 
completely 
ow  ;  many 
notsellim's 
the  place, 
'ery  thing 
d  a  letter 
•rocurator, 


i 
ex. 


i 


( 


L 


TflYATlRA. 


249 


annent  church  ;  and  ev.n  ,1.^  ,      '  '■''°'"''"''  "f  '^^ 

,h-scs  for  whichtr  '  :rr.h"  "^ '°" ""» 

(Memoir  of  the  Rev.  P.  Fir  H  ,  e°v<,r„aont,' 
It  appear,  from  Hartley,  .hti  ,h^T:"V*^''"-'  '*-«•) 
house,,  and  the  ArmenhL  in  !■  ^  '''  "'^  800 
eiimeh.      The   l„.„   •         .  '    ^"°''  "'  "'cm  have  a 

e.vp.c,se..  me  :„:c Lt  :r"'.  '\ ''°'""  --• 

saercd  writer  of  the  A  ,  '    fl    T""'  °^™'™'  '"■"" 

mention  of '"  e  i/r,  .\  I"''''''"  ''"^'  *«''  ■"■"■=: 
i"  connection  wi.h"^  ■,  p':!;™  "iT"""'  '""P""'"' 
Iravcllora  have  remarked   h,?  ?"  ""'  '•■  »"«" 

Ti.ya.ira  i,  famourfo  dVe  „"  '  "7"  "' "'"  "-f"'  '-e. 
on  the  subiect  I  «-,.   "'t     =' ,  ^"  """"er 'o  inquiries 

•re  dyed  Tr t  her  'at'":'-;''"',"-'  "'°"-'««'' 
o«.ers  furnished  byTsirMiror    "'  "''°™'  '°  "" 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 

OWHERE  does  tho  repetition 
of  legend,  and  tho  existence 
of  one  fountain  of  superstition 
strike  us  so  strangely,  as  when, 
having  divested  ourselves  of  all 
expectation  of  discovering  any 
similarity  between  the  reli- 
gious feelings  of  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  the  Old  and  the  New  World,  we  suddenly 
find  ourselves  overwhelmed  by  the  resemblance  of  tho 
traditions  of  the  ancient  tribes  of  the  New  Continent, 
concerning  the  Creation,  to  the  Mosaic  accounts  of  tho 
Kosmical  Genesis. 

The  etynologist  has  a  new  and  unploughed  field  of 
primeval  language  opened  up  to  him,  and  is  staggered 
at  the  wonderful  coincidences  of  language  which  crowd 
into  his  view.  The  symbolist  here,  too,  has  an  addi- 
tion made  to  his  mystei  ious,  and  therefore  doubly  inter- 


n^ 


ANCIENT  CITIES   Of  AMSftlOl. 


m 


esting  store,  in  the  picture-writing  of  the  Me«can«, 
and  in  the  strange  moundi  of  the  MiMiwippi  shaped 
into  the  outhne  of  inhabitants  of  the  woods. 

The  architect,  likewise,  cannot  M  to  look  with  deep 
attention  and  interest  on  the  palace*  of  Yucatan,  and 
see  how,  m  the  earliest  ages,  the  m^iteriously  work- 
ing  mind  of  man  had  conceived  inch  forms  of  sym- 
metry, and  reared  these  stately  pile*  without  the 
assistance  of  iron  tools,  or  of  domestic  draught-animals. 

These  works,  indeed,  remind  us  of  the  ago  when  an 
irrevocable  decree  went  forth,  and  when  thousands  of 
men,  groaning  under  the  lash  till  they  felt  its  continu- 
ally  repeated  strokes  no  longer,  used  (heir  brute  force 
to  drag  the  unwieldy  masses  from  the  quarry  to  the 
building,  to  carry  out,  as  if  by  magic,  the  concep- 
tion of  the  one  man  in  whose  brain  the  plan  bad  first 
drawn  breath,  where  it  had  grown  up,  and  whence, 
when  matured,  it  sprang,  AthSng-like,  full  armed  and 
adorned,  from  the  head  where  it  bad  h  ",n  first  ima- 
gined. 

Of  no  inferior  interest  to  the  pahu^  of  Yucatan,  are 
the  brick-built  pyramids  of  the  same  region,  where  the 
barbarous  rites  of  the  Aztecs,  in  strange  contrast  to  the 
more  agricultural  rites  of  their  predecessors,  the  Tol- 
tecs,  were  celebrated  even  to  tlie  day  when  barbarous 
Spaniards  entered  the  land,  and  caused  the  farther 
brutalization  of  the  forcibly  displaced  race;  who  saw, 
m  sori-ow  and  in  misery,  that  there  WM  so  help  to  be 
expected,  that  no  kind  hand  would  stay  the  desecration 
of  their  homes  and  temples;  and,  wrought  up  ^•^  their 
sorrows  to  a  pitch  of  frantic  revenge,  sold  their  king- 
dom  dearly  to  the  Spanish  ChriitiaM,  ta  whom  by 


Rill' 


V      t: 


ORBAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WOKLSV 


.     fii 


^.  I 


MocnoooMi  a 


Papal  decrees,  the  new  found  land  belonged.  Indeed, 
under  the  strait  in  which  they  found  themselres,  I 
wonder  only  at  their  patience  and  moderation.  The 
end  of  the  Mexican  Empire  resembles  that  of  a  stricken 
boar  in  the  thickets  of  Germany,  whoso  dying  spring 
is  fearful  and  oftea  fatal.  Indeed,  the  picture-histo" 
rians  of  the  period  seem  but  too  anxious  to  forget 
the  whole  misery  of  the  reign  of  Moctegcuma  II.,  and 
mark  it  merely  as  an  unlucky  year.  Their  grief  was 
too  great  to  be  shown  even  in  the  recordb  of  the  times 
to  be  handed  down  to  their  children.  How  fearfuHy 
did  the  armies  of  Cortez  humanira  the  Mexicans,  at  the 
price  of  honour,  religion,  home,  and  independence. 

The  plan  proposed  in  the  following  sketch  is  to  grve 
an  account  of  some  of  these  ancient  buildings,  and  of 
their  probable  era.    And  first  of  the  pyramidal  temples 


.-T  .«..,  „.  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^ 


OITT 


ANCIEM   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


265 


of  Yucatan  and  Mexico,  which  I  shall  introduce  to 
the  reader,  bj  an  extract  from  a  late  inquiring,  hia- 
torian  ;-  "^  *= 

"The  Mexican  tviu,,]cs~fr..r^U,\  « l.ou.os  of  God  ' 
as  thej  were  called-werc  very  numerous.    There  were 
several   hundreds  ia  each  of  the  pvincipal  cities,  manv 
of  then,,  doubtless,  very  humble  edilices.     They  wer'o 
sol.d  masses  of  earth,  cased  with  brick  or  stone,  and 
m  their  form  somewhat  resembled  the  pyramidal  struc- 
turcs  of  ancient  Egypt.     The  bases  of  many  of  them 
were   more   than   a   hundred   feet   square,  and     '  .y 
towered  to  a  still  greater  height.     They  were  distrX 
bated  into  four  or  five  stories,  each  of  smaller  dimen- 
s.ons  than  that  below.     The  ascent  was  by  a  flight  of 
steps  at  an  angle  of  the  pyramid  on  the  outside.     Thi, 
led  to  a  sort  of  terrace,  or  gallery,  at  the  base  of  the 
second  story,  which  passed  quite  round  the  buildin.. 
to  another  flight  of  stairs,   commencing  also  at  the 
saire  angle  as  the  preceding  and  directly  over  it,  and 
eading  to  a  similar  terrace;  so  that  one  had  to  make 
he  circuit  of  the  temple  several  times  before  reaching 
tlie   summit.      In    some   instances    the   stairway   led 
directly  up  the  centre  of  the  western  face  of  the  build- 
ing.    The  top  was  a  broad  area,  on  which  were  erected 
one  or  two  towers,  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  the  sanctu- 
aries  m  which  were  placed  the  sacred  images  of  the 
presiding  deities.    Before  these  towers  stood  the  dread- 
ful stone  of  sacrifice,  and  two  lofty  altars,  on  which 
fares  were  kept  as  inextinguishable  as  those  in  the  temple 
0    Vesta.     There  were  said  to  be  six  hundred  of  these 
altars,  m  smaller  buildings  within  the  enclosure  of  the 

•  Pregcott,  Conquest  of  Mexico,  i.  p.  72,  ^jq. 


256 


aREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


great  temple  of  Mexico,  which,  with  those  on  the  sacred 
edifices  in  other  parts  of  the  city,  shed  a  brilliant  illu- 
mination over  its  streets,  through  the  darkest  nights. 

"From  the  construction  of  their  temples,  all  reli- 
gious services  were  public.  The  long  processions  of 
priests  winding  round  their  massive  sides  as  they  rose 
higher  and  higher  towards  the  summit,  and  the  dismal 
rites  of  sacrifices  performed  there,  were  all  visible  from 
the  remotest  corner  of  the  capital,  impressing  on  the 
spectator's  mind  a  superstitious  veneration  for  the 
mysteries  of  his  religion,  and  for  the  dread  ministers 
by  v,'hom  they  were  interpreted. 

"  This  impression  was  kept  in  full  force  by  their 
numerous  festivals.  Every  month  was  consecrated  to 
some  protecting  deity ;  and  every  week,  t^y,  almost 
every  day,  was  set  down  in  their  calendar  for  some 
appropriate  celebration ;  so  that  it  is  difiicult  to  under- 
stand how  the  ordinary  business  of  life  could  have  be-^n 
compatible  with  the  exactions  of  religion.  Many  of 
their  ceremonies  were  of  a  light  and  cheerful  complexion, 
consisting  of  the  national  songs  and  dances,  in  which 
both  sexes  joined.  Processions  were  made  of  women 
and  children  crowned  with  garlands,  and  bearing 
offerings  of  fruit,  the  ripened  maize,  or  the  sweet 
incense  of  copal,  and  other  odoriferous  gums,  while  the 
altars  of  the  deity  were  stained  with  no  blood  save  that 
of  animals.  These  were  the  peaceful  rites  derived  from 
their  Toltec  predecessors,*  on  which  the  fierce  Aztecs 

•  Mr.  Prescott's  reference  to  the  Toltec  race  gives  me  an  opportunity  of 
laying  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Mexican  polity  and  social  sys- 
tem irere  derived  through  Polynesia,  from  the  peninsula  of  Malacca.  The 
accounts  of  Toltec  civilization  are  identical  with  those  of  the  customs  of 
the  present  Polynesians,  and  Pickering  has  clearly  proved  that  the  so- 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA.  257 

en^afted  a  superstition  too  loathsome  to  be  exhibited 
in  all  Its  nakedness,  and  one  over  which  I  would  gladly 
draw  a  veil  altogether,  but  that  it  would  leave  the 
reader  m  Ignorance  of  their  most  striking  institution, 
and  one  that  had  the  greatest  influence  in  forming  th 
national  character.  ^ 

"  ^"™\"  «;«"fices  were  adopted  by  the  Aztecs 
earlj  :n  the  fourteenth  century,  about  two  hundred 
years  before  the  conquest.  Rare  .t  first,  they  became 
more  frequent  with  the  wider  extent  of  their  empire  • 
till,  at  length,  almost  every  feslVal  was  closed  with 
this  cruel  abomination.  These  religious  ceremonials 
were  generally  arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  aiford 
a  type  of  the  raost  prominent  circumstances  in  the 
character  or  history  of  the  deity  who  was  the  object  of 
them.     A  single  example  will  suffice. 

"  One  of  their  most  important  festivals  was  that  in 

honour  of  the  god  Tezcatlipoca,  whose  rank  was  inferior 

only  to  that  of  the  Supreme  Being.     He  was  called 

the  soul  of  the  world,'  and  supposed  to  hav   been  its 

called  aboriginals  of  Oregon,  New  Mexico,  and  Anahuac  are  of  the  Malay 
r.ce.-See  h^  P.aces  of  Man,  pp.  112-114.  To  Dr.  Lang  (View  TtZ 
Ongm  and  M.grations  of  the  Polynesian  Nation:  demon  traingthei 

London,  1834)  we  owe  the  first  promulgation  or  .a.,  theory  (whichTmay 
baveoecaaion  hereafter  to  examine),  and  I  am  sure,  ftom  further  ground? 

til  :  Wi""f'u  1  '^'"^^  '''"^^^  ^'^  ""^^-'  tbatthe^^olont 
ation  of  America  took  place  irom  the  Pacifio  Ocean.    I  cannot  speak  in 

00  n.gh  terms  of  Dr.  Lang's  work :  which,  unlike  that  of  the  wo"d  bo 

not  0  much  drawn  from  the  "  volun.e  of  the  brain,"  as  from  a  cLfu  and 
sensible  co  lation  of  facts  and  customs;  whereas,  of  Mr.  Jones's  rsertion' 
we  can  only  say,  that  they  are  unproven  and  brought  forward,  1  ke  too 
many  of  the  reveries  of  the  Germaa  scholar.,  who  sef  up  a  theor;  gatht 
mg  reasons  for  it  afterwards.-i?,,ci;ey. 

22* 


1 


L. 


258 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


creator.  He  was  depicted  as  a  handsome  man,  endowed 
with  perpetual  youth.  A  year  before  the  intended 
sacrifice,  a  captive  distinguished  for  his  personal  beauty, 
and  without  a  blemish  on  his  body,  was  selected  to 

cprcsent  this  deity.  Certain  tutors  took  charge  of 
him,  and  instructed  him  how  to  perform  his  new  part 
with  becoming  grace  and  dignity.  He  was  arrayed  in 
a  splendid  dress,  regaled  with  incense  and  with  a 
profusion  of  sweet-scented  flowers,  of  which  the  ancient 
Mexicans  were  as  fond  as  their  de8C(ndantg  at  the 
present  day.  When  he  went  abroad  he  was  attended 
by  a  train  of  the  royal  pages,  and,  as  he  halted  jn  the 
streets  to  play  some  favourite  melody,  the  crowd 
prostrated  themselves  before  him,  and  did  him  homage 
as  the  representative  of  their  good  deity.     In  this  way 

•c  led  an  easy  luxurious  life,  till  within  a  month  of  his 
sacrifice.  ...  At  length  the  fatal  dtiy  of  sacrifice 
arrived.  The  term  of  his  short-lived  glories  was  at  an 
end.  He  was  stripped  of  his  gaudy  apparel,  and  bade 
adieu  to  the  fair  partners  of  his  revelries.  One  of  the 
royal  barges  transported  him  across  the  lake  to  a  temple 
which  rose  on  its  margin  about  a  league  from  the  city. 
Hither  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital  flocked  to  witness 
the  consummation  of  the  ceremony.  As  the  sad  pro- 
cession wound  up  the  sides  of  the  pyramid,  the  unhappy 
victim  threw  away  his  gay  chaplets  of  flowers,  and 

roke  in  pieces  the  musical  instruments  with  which  he 
had  solaced  the  hours  of  captivity.  On  the  summit  he 
was  received  by  six  priests,  whose  long  and  matted 
locks  flowed  disorderly  over  their  sable  robes,  covered 
with  hieroglyphic  scrolls  of  mystic  import.  They  led 
him  to  the  sacrificial  stone,  a  huge  block  of  jasper,  with 


;ial  beauty, 
selected  to 
charge  of 
8  new  part 
arrayed  in 
ad  with  a 
the  ancient 
its  at  the 
is  attended 
ilted  jn  tlio 
the  crowd 
im  homage 
[n  this  way 
Dnth  of  his 
of  sacrifice 
}  was  at  an 
I,  and  bade 
One  of  the 
to  a  temple 
m  the  city. 
[  to  witness 
le  sad  pro- 
lie  unhappy 
owers,  and 
;h  which  he 
summit  he 
jnd  matted 
les,  covered 
They  led 
jasper,  with 


ANCIENT  CITIKS  OF  AMERioa. 


261 


Its  upper  surface  somewhat  convex.  On  this  the  prisoner 
was  stretched     Five  priests  secured  his  head  and  hi, 
hmbs;  while  the  sixth,  clad  in  a  scarlet  mantle,  emble- 
ma  le  of  h.s  bloody  office,  dexterously  opened  the  breast 
of  the  wretched  victim  with  a  sharp  razor  of  itztl.-a 
volcanic  substance,  hard  as  flint,-and,  inserting  his 
hand  in  the  wound    tore  out  the  palpitating  heart. 
Ihc  mn.istcr  of  death,  first  holding  this  up  towards  the 
sun  an  object  of  worship  throughout  Anahuac,  cast  it 
a   the  fc.et  of  the  deity  to  whom  the  temple  was  devoted, 
while  the  multitudes  below  prostrated  themselves  in 
humble  adoration.     The  tragic  story  of  this  prisoner 
was  expounded  by  the  priests  as  the  type  of  human 
destiny,  which,  brilliant  in  its  commencement,  too  often 

closes  ,n  sorrow  and  disaster The  most 

loathsome  part  of  the  story-the  manner  in  which  the 
body  of  the  sacrificed  captive  was  disposed  of-remains 
yet  to  be  told.     It  was  delivered  to  the  warrior  who 
hac,  taken  him  in  battle,  and  by  him,  after  being  dressed 
was  served  up  in  an  entertainment  to  his  friends.     This 
was  not  the  coarse  repast  of  famished  cannibals,  but  a 
banquet  teeming  with  delicious  beverages  and  delicate 
viands  prepared  with  art  and  attended  by  both  sexes 
who  as  we  shall  see  hereafter,  conducted  themselves' 
^itU  all  the  decorum  of  civilized  life." 

The  other  mode  of  human  sacrifice  was  the  gladia. 
onal,  where  the  victim  was  confined  by  a  chain  attached 

who  was  at  liberty. 
To  such  appalling  uses  were  these  pyramids,  now 

oZf  ?h  '":^  'P^j"'-  ^  ^^"  '^^^  P^'°^««^  t^  describe 
one  of  thom,  that  of  Cholula. 


I 


262 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


It  has  been 


illy  bell 


that 


I  Toltecs,  the 

predecessors  of  the  savage  but  politic  Aztecs,  were  the 
builders  of  the  pyramidical  mountains  which  travellers 
and  antiquarians  have  found  abounding  in  Mexico  and 
Yucatan ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  great  probability  that 
the  Aztec  race  carried  out  the  plans  conceived  by 
them,  though  not,  I  must  fain  believe,  for  the  same 
barbarous  purposes.  The  Mongolian  race,  coming  from 
the  adjacent  shores  of  Asia,  evidently  introduced  these 
horrid  rites.  As  to  the  origin  of  these  structures,  it 
is  a  fact  extremely  worth  dwelling  on,  that  in  the  South 
Sea  Islands  the  remains  of  similar  pyramidal  mounds, 
tumuli,  temples,  and  fortifications  are  found.  Now,  if 
the  comparative  ago  of  the  bricks  or  stone  could  be 
ascertained,  it  would  lead  to  important  and  decisive 
results ;  for,  as  Paley  held,  circumstantial  evidence 
never  can  lie,  as  it  is  not  susceptible  of  being  contro- 
verted ;  whereas  assertions,  however  true,  can  be  con- 
tradicted :  it  is,  therefore,  more  trust-worthy  than  the 
other. 

The  largest.  And  probably  the  most  ancient  structure 
of  a  pyramidal  form  in  Anahuac  is  that  of  Cholula. 
Humboldt  informs  us,  that  in  the  present  day  this  teo- 
calU  (house  of  God)  is  called  the  Mountain  made  by 
the  hand  of  Man  [monte  hecho  a  manos).  "At  a 
distance,"  continues  the  traveller,  "it  has  the  aspect 

of  a  natural  hill  covered  with  vegetation 

The  teo-calli  of  Cholula  has  four  stories,  all  of  equal 
height.  It  appears  to  have  been  constructed  exactly 
in  the  directions  of  the  four  cardinal  points ;  but  as 
the  edges  of  the  stories  are  not  very  distinct,  it  is 
difficult  to  ascertain   their  primitive  direction.     This 


ill: 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA.  268 

pyramidical  monument  has  a  broader  haai-  ♦>,«    *i 

I  »><,a,ured,t  carefully,  a„a  ..c«r.ai„ed  that  i.  T  ! 
pend,c„l.v  he,ght  i,  „„iy  jft    „„  P". 

ee  ],  but  that  a.  each  ,ide  of  ite  base  i,  439  ZTillll 
foot]  m  length.    JJcrnal  Bias  del  Castillo  „  !„ 
BoMier  i„  the  a™,  „f  Cortet  an,t     'l^™  Hv" 

platforms  of  the  teo-callu.     He  fo„„d  114  i„   I,e  I 
temple  at  Tonoohtitlan,  117  in  that  of  T.J     ^    ^ 
120  in  th,.t  of  Cholula."    .  "'°"™'  ""'' 

The  t™plo  of  Cholnla  i;  r;p„;ted  in  the  tradition, 

0  the  n,..,ve,  to  have  been  built  by  giant,,  „h„,  Tfte 
the  Dclujo,  began  to  raise  it  in  order  to  sav^  themselves 
n  ease  „f  „„  ,      „„„j_  ^^^  ,,^  .  ,„,.    7*- 

and  destroyed  their  labour.  This  legend  has  some 
pomts  of  resemblance  with  that  of  Babe'l ;  nd  "  one  " 
say.  Presco.t   "  „ho  has  not  examined  th    subject  ,  III 

arcely  ered,t  what  bold  hypotheses  have  beerrear 
on  t  .s  slender  basis."  I  am  of  opinion  that  thelcZd 
h  s  been  associated  with  the  pyramid  long  af  f  Us 

X^7^:^  --.imaginative  genius  invented  it,  t 

pity  ot  the  tale,  so  giving  it 

"  A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 
This  i8  confirmed  by  the  accidental  discovery  of  a 

yZ  f:::\r\  ^'^' -^^^  ^^  ^'^  ^^--^^  -' ' 

cei  il  ff'/r      I    T''""  '^  '  '''^'     The  arched 

u  hf,  !f  T^''  '''^  '^'  '^^'''  <^«^cription, 

Buch  a   IS  frequently  met  with  in  the  Pacific  islands 

1  W.I1  conclude  this  account  of  the  pyramid  of  Cholula 
which  might  answer  for  a  description  of  all,  by  quoSng 


(IK 


864 


QREAT  CITIKS  Ul<  Tllli:  WOBLD. 


OORTU, 


tlio  brilliant  doscription  of  tlio  latest  investigator  of 
Mexican    ntiquitios  : — 

"  On  the  smnuiit  stood  a  suniptuou m  temple,  in  which 
was  tho  inuvgo  of  the  mystic  deity,  '(Jod  of  the  An-,' 
with  ebon  features,  unlike  the  fair  comploAi-u  which 
ho  bore  upon  earth,  wea'-ing  ;i  mitre  on  hia  lioad  waving 
with  plumes  of  fire,  with  a  res)  "endent  collar  of  gold 
round  his  nee;  pcnd'uts  of  i  aic  tur  noise  in  hif. 
cars,  a  jewelleil  sceptro  in  one  hand,  and  a  shield 
curiously  painted,  tho  emblem  of  his  rule  over  the 
winds,  in  the  othci'.  The  sanctity  .)f  the  placr,  hallowed 
by  hoary  tradition,  and  the  magnificence  of  the  temple 
and  its  services,  made  it  an  object  of  -^neration  through- 
out the  land,  and  pilgrims  f  >m  the  furthest  corners  of 
Anahuac  came  to  offer  up  tl    'i-  i'     otious  at  the  ehrin* 


"■^'       -* 


1 


tigator  of 

e,  in  whioli 
'  the  Air,' 
<ion  which 
ad  waving 
iw  of  gold 
jiso  in  his 
I  a  shield 
)  over  the 
^,  hallowed 
the  temple 
)ii  through 
corners  of 
the  shvin9 


u= 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


267 


as 


of  QuetMlcoatl.  The  number  of  these  was  so  great 
to  g.ve  an  air  of  mendicity  to  the  motley  population 
of  the  c.ty ;  and  Cortex,  struck  with  the  novelty,  tells 
us  that  he  saw  multitmles  of  beggars,  such  as  are  to 
be  found  m  the  enlightened  capitals  of  Europe:  a 
whimsical  criterion  of  civilization,  which  must  place 
our  own  prosperous  land  somewhat  low  in  the  scale. 

Cholula  was  not  the  resort  only  of  the  indigent 
devotee.     Many  of  the  kindred  racel  had  te^p  fo 

Chns  .an  nations  have  in  Rome,  and  each  temple  was 
provided  with  Its  own  peculiar  ministers  for  the  service 
of  the  deity  to  whom  it  was  consecrated.     In  no  city 
was  there  seen  such  a  concourse  of  priests,  so  many 
processions,  such  pomp  of  ceremonial   sac  ifice    and 
religious  ^stivals.     Cholula  was,  in  short,  what  Mec  a 
;s  among  Mahomedans,  or  Jerusalem  among  Christians 
^t  was  the  Holy  City  of  Anahuac.     .     .\    NoZ' 
could  be  more  grand  than  the  view  which  met  the  eye 
from  the  area  on  the  truncated  summit  of  the  pyramid 
Toward   he  west  stretched  that  bold  barrier  of  Lpht 
ritic  rock  which  nature  has  reared  around  the  valley 
of  Mexico  with  the  huge  Popacatepetl  and  Iztaccihuatl^ 
standing  like  two  colossal  sentinels  to  guard  the  entrance 
to  the  enchanted  region      Far  awav  tn  th.  «    . 
seen  the  conical  head  of  Orizaba,  soaring  high  into  the 
cWs,  and  near  the  barren  though  beautif'lyraped 
Sierra  de  Malinche,  throwing  its  broad  shadows  over 
he  plain  of  Tlascala.     Three  of  these  are  volcano 
lugher  t  an  the  highest  mountain  peak  in  Europe  and 

llttr.  "^"^  "'r'  "^^^^  "^^'*  -^-  ^^'  fierce 
sun  of  the  tropics.    At  the  foot  of      e  spectator  lay 


L=== 


-i>tr- 


268 


GRE>T  CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


,    ', 


the  sacred  city  of  Cholula,  with  its  bright  towers  and 
pinnacles  sparkling  in  the  sun,  reposing  amidst  gardens 
and  verdant  groves,  which  then  thickly  studded  the 
cultivated  environs  of  the  capital.  Such  was  the 
magnificent  prospect  which  met  the  gaze  of  the  con- 
querors, and  may  still,  with  slight  change,  meet  that 
of  the  modern  traveller,  as  from  the  platform  of  the 
great  pyramid  his  eye  wanders  over  the  fairest  portion 
of  the  beautiful  plateau  of  Puebla." 

The  Casa  del  Gobernador,  House  of  the  Governor, 
at  Uxmal,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  city  palaces 
of  Central  America,  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Cather- 
wood : — 

The  '  Casa  del  Gobernador,'  or  House  of  the  Governor, 
is  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  important  of  the  ancient 
buildings  at  Uxmal,  in  Yucatan.  It  is  constructed 
entirely  of  hewn  stone,  and  measures  320  feet  in  front, 
by  40  feet  in  depth.  The  height  is  about  26  feet.  It 
has  eleven  doorways  in  front,  and  one  at  each  end. 
The  apartments  are  narrow,  seldom  exceeding  12  feet, 
just  large  enough  to  swing  a  hammock,  which  was,  and 
still  is,  the  substitute  for  bods  throughout  the  country. 
Some  of  the  rooms  measure  60  feet  in  length,  and  are 
23  feet  high.  There  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
any  internal  decoration  in  the  chambers,  nor  are  there 
any  windows.  The  lower  part  of  the  edifice  is  of  plain 
wrought  stone,  but  the  upper  portion  is  singularly  rich 
in  ornament.  Taking  the  front,  the  ends,  and  the 
rear  of  the  building,  there  is  a  lengtli  of  752  feet  of 
elaborate  carving,  on  which  traces  of  colour  are  still 
visible.  The  peculiar  arch  of  the  country  has  been 
employed  in  every  roon.     The  lintels  of  the  ''iOorways 


ers  and 

gardens 

ded  the 

vas  the 

he  con- 

jet  that         1 

L 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


271 


were  of  wood,  a  more  costly  material  to  work  than 
Btone,  but  less  durable.     Unfortunately,  they  have  all 
decayed    and   the  masonry  they  supported  has,  in 
places,  fallen  down,  and  much  of  the  beauty  of  the 
building  IS  thus  destroyed.     The  central  ornament  over 
the  principal  doorway  was  a  seated  figure,  of  which  but 
slight  traces  remain.     The  head-dress  of  feathers  is 
more  perfect,  and  appears  totally  disproportioned  to 
the  size  of  the  figure.     On  either  side  is  a  parallel  bar 
of  stone,  between  which  are  well-sculptured  hierogly- 
pb-cs.     The  cornice  was  perhaps  intended  to  represent 
the  coilings  of  a  serpent ;  it  continued  from  one  extremity 
of  the  building  to  the  other,  and  goes  entirely  round  it. 
The  Casa  del  Gobernador  stands  on  three  terraces  • 
the  lowest  is  three  feet  high,  fifteen  feet  wide,  and  575 
feet  long ;  the  second  is  20  feet  high,  250  feet  wide, 
and  545  feet  long;  and  the  third  is  lu  feet  high   30 
feet  broad,  and  360  feet  long.     They  ar.  all  of  stone, 
and  m  a  tolerably  good  state  of  preservation  " 

Even  here  in  the  wilderness,  where  it  might  be 
supposed  mysticism  would  not  be  found,  we  fim?  tbae 
symbolism  and  mysterious  import  of  number  ifikfc 
seems  to  have  been  so  widely  spread  a«oDg  the  mtiom 
of  antiquity.     The  length  of  the  upper  fAttiorm  m  Met) 
to  correspond  nearly  with  the  number  of  days  in  the 
year,   and  the  mysterious  emblem  of  eterntty    the 
serpent  is  found  extending  its  portentous  length  around 
the  building,  which,  like  the  temples  of  India,  wat 
consecrated  to  a  worship  of  the  nature  of  which,  except 
by  an   examination  of  the  simple  religions  of  the 
Polynesians,   we  shall  never  be  able  to  obtain  any 
definite  knowledge.    From  their  customs  alone  can 


L 


=JI 


1 


272 


GREAT   CITIES   0¥  THE   WORLD. 


we  arrive  at  the  solution  of  the  problems  of  early 
migrations,  and  to  thera  I  would  accordingly  direct  the 
attention  of  the  students  of  the  physical  distribution 
of  the  races  of  mankind.  To  return  to  Uxmal.  It  is 
much  better  to  give  the  descriptions  of  eye-witnesses 
than  to  attempt  the  compilation  of  one  from  the  accounts 
given  us  by  travellers ;  I  shall  therefore  (juote  some 
passages  from  a  late  investigator  of  this  district: — 

"  The  first  object,"  says  Stephens.  "  that  arrests  ibe 
eye  on  emerging  from  the  forest  is  the  building  to  the 
right  of  the  spectator.  Drawn  off  by  mounds  of  ruins 
and  piles  of  gigantic  buildings,  the  eye  returns,  and 
again  fastens  upon  this  lofty  structure.  It  was  the 
first  building  I  entered.  From  its  front  doorway  I 
counted  sixteen  ekvavions,  with  broken  walls  and 
mounds  of  stones,  and  vast  magnificent  edifices  which 
at  that  distance  seemed  untouched  by  time,  and  defy- 
ing ruin.  I  stood  in  the  doo'",vay  when  the  sun  went 
ivCrt'u,  throwing  from  the  buildmgs  a  prodigious  breadth 
of  shadoAv,  darkening  the  terraces  on  which  they  stood, 
and  prosontmg  a  scene  strange  enough  for  a  work  of 
enchantment. 

"  This  building  is  si/ty-eight  feet  long.  The  eleva- 
tion on  which  it  stands  is  b"ilt  up  solid  from  the  plain, 
entirely  artificial.  Its  form  is  not  pyramidal,  but 
oblong  and  rounding,  being  240  feet  long  at  the  base, 
and  120  broad,  and  it  is  protected  all  round,  to  tho 
very  top,  by  a  wall  of  square  stonas.  Perhaps  the  high 
ruined  sculptures  at  Palenque,  winch  we  have  called 
pyramidal,  and  which  were  so  ruined  that  we  could  not 
make  them  out  exactly,  were  originally  of  the  same 
shape.     On  the  cast  side  of  the  structure  is  a  br^iad 


■  ! 

f  early 

•ect  thf         1 

•ibntion 

.     It  is         1 

itnesses 

ccounts 

e  some        j 

t:-              1 

ests  the        ,| 

;  to  the 

of  ruins 

n»,  and 

vas  the 

rway  I 

Us   and 

s  which        i 

id  defy- 

m  went 

breadth        . 

y  stood,        1 

vork  of 

e  eleva- 

e  plain,        j 

al,   but        i 

ie  base, 

,  to  tho 

he  high 

ANCIENT   CITIKS   OF  AMERICA. 


278 


range  of  stone  steps,  between  eight  and  nine  inches 
high,  and  80  steep  that  great  care  is  necessary  in 
ascendmff  and  descending;  of  these  we  counted  a  hun- 
area  and  one  in  their  places.     Nine  were  wanting  at 
the  top,  and  perhaps  twenty  were  covered  with  rubbish 
at  the  bottom ;  at  the  summit  of  the  steps  is  a  stone 
platform  four  feet  and  a  half  wide,  i  unnmg  along  the 
rear  of  the  building.     There  is  no  door  in  the  centre 
but  at  each  end  a  door  opens  into  an  apartment  eighteen 
feet  long  and  nine  wide,  and  between  the  two  is  a  third 
apartment,  of  the  same  width,  and  thirty-four  feet  long. 
Ihe  whole  building  k  of  stone;  inside,  the  walJs  are  of 
pohshed  smoothness ;  outside,  up  to  the  height  of  the 
door,  the  stones  are  plain  and  square;  above  this  line 
there  is  a  rich  cornice  or  moulding;  and  from  this  tJ 
the  top  of  the  building,  all  the  sides  are  covered  with 
nch   and   elaborate  sculptured  ornaments,  forming  a 
sort  of  arabesque.     The  style  and  character  of  th^'ese 
ornaments  were  entirely  different  from  those  of  any  we 
had  seen  before,  either  in  that  country  or  any  other; 
they  bore  no  resemblance  whatever  to  those  of  Copan 
or  Palenque,  and  were  quite  as  unique  and  peculiar. 
Ihe  designs  were  strange  and  incomprehensible,  very 
elaborate,    sometimes    grotesque,    but    often    simple 
tasteful,  and  beautiful.     Among  the  intelligible  sub- 
jects are  squares  an.l  diamonds,  with  busts  of  human 
beings,  heads  of  leopards,  and  compositions  of  leaves 
and  flowers,  and  the  ornaments  known  every  where  aa 
gncques.     The  ornaments,  which  succeed  each  other 
are  all  different;  the  whole  form  an  extraordinary  mass 
of  richness  and  complexiiv,  and  the  effect  is  both  grand 
and  curious.     And  the  son,  traction  of  these  ornomentg 


J 


274 


6RKAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


is  not  less  peculiar  and  striking  than  tho  general  effect 
There  were  no  tablets  or  single  stones,  each  representing 
separately  and  by  itself  an  entire  subject ;  but  every 
ornament  or  combination  is  made  up  of  separate  stones, 
on  each  of  which  part  of  the  subject  was  carved,  and 
which  was  then  set  in  its  place  in  tho  walls.  Each 
stone  by  itself  was  an  unmeaning  fractional  part ;  but, 
placed  by  the  side  of  others,  helped  to  make  a  whole, 
which  without  it  would  bo  incomplete.  Perhaps  it 
may,  with  propriety,  bo  called  a  species  of  sculptured 
mosaic. 

"  From  tho  front  door  of  this  extraordinary  building 
a  pavement  of  hard  cement,  twenty-two  feet  long  by 
fifteen  broad,  leads  to  the  roof  of  another  building, 
seated  lower  down  on  the  artificial  structure.  There 
is  no  staircase  or  other  visible  communication  betANcen 
the  two ;  but,  descending  by  a  pile  of  rubbish  .ilong 
the  side  of  the  lower  one,  and  groping  around  the 
cornel',  wo  entered  a  doorway  in  front  four  feet  wide, 
and  found  inside  a  chamber  tAvelvo  feet  high,  with 
corridors  running  tho  whole  breadth,  of  which  the 
front  one  was  seven  feet  three  inches  deep,  and  the 
other  three  feet  nine  inches.  The  inner  walls  were  of 
smooth  and  polished  square  stones,  and  there  was  no 
inner  door,  or  means  of  communication  with  any  other 
place.  Outside,  the  doorway  was  loaded  with  orna- 
ments, and  the  whole  exterior  was  tho  same  as  that 
of  the  building  described  above.  The  steps  leading 
from  the  doorway  to  the  foot  of  the  structure  were 
entirely  destroyed. 

"  The  Indians  legavd  these  ruins  with  superstitious 
reverence.     They  will  not  go  near  them  at  night,  and 


ANCIENT  CITIES   OF  AMERICA. 


275 


they  have  the  old  story  that  immense  treasure  is 
hidden  among  them.  Each  of  the  buildings  has  its 
name  given  to  it  by  the  Indians.  This  is  called  the 
Caaa  del  Anano,  or  House  of  the  Dwarf,  and  it  is 
consecrated  by  a  wild  legend,  which,  as  I  sat  in  the 
doorway,  I  received  from  the  lips  of  an  Indian,  as 
follows : — 

"  There  was  an  old  woman  who  lived  in  a  hut  on  the 
very  spot  now  occupied  by  the  structure  on  which 
this  building  is  perched,  and  opposite  the  Casa  del 
Gobernador,   who   went  mourning   that  she   had  no 
children.     In  her  distress  she  one  day  took  an  egg 
covered  it  with  a  cloth,  and  laid  it  away  carefully  in  one 
corner  of  the  hut.     Every  day  she  went  to  look  at 
It,  until  one  morning  she  found  the  egg  hatched,  and  a 
criatura,  or  creature,  or  baby,  born.     The  old  woman 
was  delighted,  and  called  it  her  son,  provided  it  with 
a  nurse,  took  good    ....  of  it,  so  that  in  one  year  it 
walked  and  talked  like  .  man;  and  then  it  stopped 
growing,     Tlie  old  woman  was  more  delighted  than 
ever,  and  said  he  would  be  a  great  lord  or  Viug.     One 
day  sImj  told  him  to  go  to  th«  house  of  tl?  Gobernador, 
and  challenge  him  to  a  trial  of  strengJi.     '^he  dwarf 
tried  to  beg  off,  but  the  old  woman  ins: it  d,  and  he 
went.     Tiie  guard   admitted   him,  and  he  flung  his 
challenge  at  the  Gt)bernador.     The  latter  smiled,  and 
told  him  to  lift  i\  stone  of  three  arrobat,  or  seventy- 
five   pounds;   at   which    the   little   fellow   cried   and 
returned  to  his  mother,  who  sent  him  back  to  say  that 
if  tlw  G^.bernador  lifted  it  first,  he  would  afterwards. 
The  Gobernador  lifted  it,  and  the  dwarf  immediately 
did  the  same.     The  Gobernador  then  tried  him  with 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOELD. 

other  feata  of  strength,  and  the  dwarf  regularly  did 
irhateyer  yf&a  done  by  the  Gobernador.  At  length, 
indignant  at  being  matched  by  a  dwarf,  the  Gober- 
nador told  him  that  unh^ss  ho  made  a  houf^e  in  one 
night  higher  than  any  in  the  place  he  would  kill  him. 
The  poor  dwarf  again  returned  crying  to  his  mother, 
who  bade  him  not  to  be  disheartened,  and  the  next 
morning  he  awoke  and  found  himself  in  this  lofty 
building.  The  Gobernador,  seeing  it  from  the  door  of 
his  palace,  was  astonished,  and  sent  for  the  dwarf,  and 
told  him  to  collect  two  bundles  of  cogoiol,  a  wood  of 
a  very  hard  species,  with  one  of  which  he,  the  Gober- 
nador, would  beat  the  dwarf  over  the  head,  and 
afterwards  the  dwarf  should  beat  him  with  the  other. 
The  dwarf  again  returned  crying  to  his  mothor,  but 
the  latter  told  him  not  to  be  afraid,  and  pi'.t  on  the 
crown  of  his  head  a  tortilUta  de  trigo^  a  a>s)J\  thin 
cake  of  wheat  flour.  The  trial  was  ni-idc  in  the 
presence  of  all  the  great  men  in  tho  city.  The 
Gobernador  broke  the  whole  of  his  bundle  over  the 
dwarf's  head,  without  hurting  the  little  fellow  in  the 
least.  He  then  tried  to  avoid  the  trial  on  his  own 
head,  but  ho  had  given  his  word  in  the  presence  of  his 
officers,  and  was  obliged  to  submit.  The  second  blow 
of  the  dw?i,rf  broke  his  skull  in  piecss,  and  all  the 
spectators  hailed  the  victor  as  their  new  Gobernador. 
The  old  woman  then  died ;  but  at  the  Indian  village 
of  Mani,  seventeen  leagues  distant,  there  is  a  deep 
well,  from  which  opens  a  cave  which  leads  under  ground, 
an  immense  distance,  to  Merida.  In  this  cave,  on  the 
bank  of  a  stream,  under  the  shade  of  a  large  tree,  sits 
an  old  woman,  with  a  serpent  by  her  side,  who  sells 


.«f»*,; 


V 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


277 


Trater  in  small  quantities,  n.i  for  money,  but  only  for 
acriatura,  or  baby,  to  give  the  serpent  to  eat;  and 
this  old  woman  is  the  mother  of  the  dwarf.  Such  is 
the  fanciful  legend  connected  with  this  edifice ;  but 
It  hardly  seemed  more  strange  than  the  structure  to 
which  It  referred. 

"The  other  building  is  called  by  a  name  which 
may  originally  have  had  some  reference  to  the  vestals, 
vrho,  m  Mexico,  were  employed  to  keep  burning  the 
sacred  fire;  but  I  believe,  in  the  mouths  of  the  In- 
dians  of    Uxmal,   it   has   no   reference   whatever  to 
history,  tradition,  or  legend,  but  is  derived  entirely 
trom  bpanish  associations.     It  is  called  Casa  de  las 
Monjas  or  House  of  the  Nuns,  or  the  Convent.     It  is 
situated  on  an  artificial  elevation  about  fifteen  feet 
high.     Its  form  is  quadrangular,  and  one  side,  accord- 
mg  to  my  measurement,  is  ninety-five  paces  in  length. 
It  was  not  possible  to  pace  all  around  it,  from  the 
masses  of  fallen  stones  which  encumber  it  in  some 
places,  but  it  may  be  safely  stated  at  250  feet  square. 
Like  the  House  of  the  Dwarf,  it  is  built  entirely  of  cut 
stone,  and  the  whole  exterior  is  filled  with  the  same 
rich,  elaborate,  and  incomprehensible  sculptured  stone 
ornaments. 

''  The  principal  entrance  is  by  a  large  doorway  into 
a  beautiful  patio  or  court-yard,  grass-grown,  but  clear 
of  trees;  and  the  whole  of  the  inner  fagade  is  orna- 
mented more  richly  and  elaborately  than  the  outside, 
and  m  a  more  perfect  state  of  preservation.  On  one 
side,  the  combination  was  in  the  form  of  diamonds 
simple,  chaste,  and  tasteful;  and  at  the  head  of  the 
court-yard,  two  gigantic  serpents,  with  their  heads 

24 


i;i!  in 


278 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE   WORLD. 


broken  and  falleh,  were  winding  from  opposite  direc 
tions  along  the  whole  fagade. 

"In  front,  and  on  a  line  with  the  door  of  the  cor 
vent,  is  another  building  on  a  lower  foundation,  of  the 
same  general  character,  called  Casa  de  Tortugas,  from 
sculptured  turtles  over  the  doorway.  This  building 
had  in  several  place*?  huge  cracks,  as  if  it  had  been 
shaken  by  an  earthquake.  It  stands  nearly  in  the 
centre  of  the  ruins,  and  the  top  commands  a  view  all 
round,  of  singular  but  wrecked  magnificence. 

"  Beyond  this,  a  little  to  the  right,  approached  by 
passing  over  mounds  of  ruins,  was  another  building 
which,  at  a  great  distance,  attracted  our  attention  by 
its  conspicuous  ornaments.  We  reached  it  by  ascend- 
ing two  high  terraces.  The  main  building  was  similar 
to  the  others,  and  along  the  top  ran  a  high  ornamental 
wall,  which,  from  the  peculiar  style  of  drroration,  was 
called  Casa  uo  .*^.lormos  or  House  of  Tigeons,  and  at 
a  distance  it  i.,.>kod  more  like  a  row  of  Pigeon-houses 
than  any  Ihint^  <!ise. 

"  In  front  ^v,is  a  broad  avenue,  with  a  line  of  ruins 
on  each  side,  leading  beyond  the  wall  of  the  convent 
to  a  great  mound  of  ruins,  which  probably  had  once 
been  a  building  with  which  it  was  connected;  and 
beyond  this  is  a  lofty  building  in  the  rear,  to  which 
this  seemed  but  a  vestibule  or  porter's  lodge.  Be- 
tween the  two  was  a  large  patio  or  court-yard,  with 
corridors  on  each  side,  and  the  ground  of 'the  court- 
yard sounded  hollow.  In  one  place  the  surface  was 
broken,  and  I  descended  into  a  large  excavation 
cemented,  which  had  probably  been  intended  as  a 
granary.     At  the  back  of  the  court-yard,  on  a  high 


— 


STATUK  FOUND   AT  C'OPAN, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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2.5 


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"  lis   llil  10 


L£  1116 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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ANCIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


281 


broken  terrace,  which  it  was  difficult  to  climb,  was 
another  edifice  more  ruined  than  the  others,  but  which 
from  the  style  of  its  remains,   and  its  commanding 
position,  overlooking  every  other  building  except  the 
House   of  the   Dwarf,   and   apparently   having   been 
connected   with   the  distant  mass  of  ruins  in  front 
must  have  been  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  city' 
perhaps    the  principal   temple.     The  Indians  call   it 
the  qnartel  or  guard-house.     It  commanded  a  view  of 
other  ruins  not  contained  in  the  enumeration  of  those 
seen  from  the  House  of  the  Dwarf;  and  the  whole 
presented   a  scene  of  barbaric   magnificence   utterly 
confounding   all    previous   notions   in   regard   to   the 
aboriginal  inhabitants  of  this  country,  and  calling  up 
emotions  which  had  not  been  wakened  to  tue  same 
extent  by  any  thing  we  had  yet  seen." 

Such  is  the  minute  and  interesting  description  of  the 
ruined  city  of  Uxmal  given  us  by  Mr.  Stephens. 

The  same  writer  describes  the  ruins  of  Palenque 
and  Copan.     In  the  ruins  of  the  latter  he  found  the 
monument  here  presented.     He  states  that  it  forms  a 
prominent  object  in  the  ruins  of  Copan,  and  that  it  is 
situated  at  the  foot  of  a  wall  which  rises  in  steps  to  an 
elevation  of  thirty  or  forty  feet.     The  height  of  this 
singular  monument   is   eleven   feet  nine  inches;   its 
breadth  about  throe  feet  on  each  side,  and  it  stands  on 
a  pedestal  which  must  have  been  seven  feet  square 
A  httle  above  the  centre  of  the  north  side,  which  is 
here  represented,  is  a  sculptured  face,  presumed  to  be 
a  portrait  of  some  king  or  hero,  who  had  probably  been 
deified  after  his  death.     King  Solomon  said,  'there  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun ;'  and  here  we  see  an  instance 

24* 


282 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


in  point ;  for  the  image  on  this  monument  is  that  of  a 
person  who  wore  moustaches,  as  do  men  of  fashion  of 
the  present  day.  Beneath  the  portrait  are  seen  the 
hands  of  the  image  placed  upon  the  hreast,  and  they 
are  apparently  very  well  formed.  The  other  parts 
of  the  front  of  the  monument,  as  well  as  the  three 
remaining  sides,  are  richly  sculptured  with  strange 
figures,  kingly  crowns,  and  what  appear  to  be  symbolical 
representations  of  ancient  customs,  fabies,  or  events. 
Within  tAvelve  feet  stands  an  altar  of  colossal  size, 
formed,  like  the  monument  itself,  of  a  soft  gritty  stone, 
which  had  once  been  painted  red,  as  some  few  vestiges 
of  the  pigment  are  now  to  be  seen.  This  altar  is 
ornamented  with  a  death's  head,  and  other  gloomy 
symbols,  and  its  top  is  cut  into  grooves  or  channels, 
supposed  to  have  been  intended  to  carry  off  the  blood 
of  human  or  animal  victims  immolated  in  sacrifice. 
The  proximity  of  such  a  structure  to  the  monument  we 
have  described,  must  surely  strengthen  the  impression 
that  the  sculptured  portrait  is  that  of  some  object  of 
worship. 

Mr.  Norman,  an  American  traveller,  thus  describes 
a  portion  of  the  ruins  of  Chi-Chen,  another  of  the 
ancient  cities  of  Yucatan : — 

"  I  entered  at  an  opening  in  the  western  angle,  which 
I  conceived  to  be  the  main  entrance ;  and  presumed, 
from  the  broken  walls,  ceilings,  and  pillars  still  standing, 
that  the  opposite  end  had  been  the  location  of  the 
shrine  or  altar.  The  distance  between  these  two 
extremes  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  walls 
stand  upon  an  elevated  foundation  of  about  sixteen 
feet.     Of  the  entrance,  or  western  end,  about  one-half 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


283 


remains;    the  interior  showing   broken   rooms,   and 
ceihngs  not  entirely  defaced.     The  exterior  is  composed 
of  large  stones,  beautifully  hewn,  and  laid  in  fillet  and 
moulding  work.     The  opposite,  or  altar  end,  consists 
of  similar  walls,  but  has  two  sculptured  pillars,  much 
defaced  by  the  falling  ruins— six  feet  only  remaining 
m  view  above  them.     These  pillars  measure  about  two 
feet  m   diameter.      The  walls   are   surrounded  with 
masses  of  sculptured  and  hewn  stone,  broken  columns, 
and  ornaments,  which  had  fallen  from  ^he  walls  them- 
selves, and  which  are  covered  with  a  rank  and  luxuriant 
vegetation,  and  even  with  trees,  through  which  I  was 
obliged  to  cut  my  way  with  my  Indian  knife.     In  the 
rear  of  the  pillars  are  the  remains  of  a  room,  the  back 
ceilings  only  existing  ;  sufficient,  however,  to  show  chat 
they  were  of  rare  workmanship. 

"  The  southern,  or  right-hand  wall,  as  you  enter,  is  in 
the  best  state  of  preservation,  the  hijrhest  part  of  which, 
yet  standing,  is  about  fifty  feet ;  where,  also,  the  remains 
of  rooms  are  still  to  be  seen.  The  other  parts,  on  either 
side,  are  about  twenty-six  feet  high,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  long,  and  sixteen  thick ,  and  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  apart.  The  interior,  or  inner  surface  of 
these  walls,  is  quite  perfect,  finely  finished  with  smooth 
stones,  cut  uniformly  in  squares  of  about  two  feet. 
About  the  centre  of  these  walls,  on  both  sides,  near  the 
top,  are  placed  stone  rings,  carved  from  an  immense 
block,  and  inserted  in  the  wall  by  a  long  shaft,  and 
projecting  from  it  about  four  feet.  They  measure 
about  four  feet  in  diameter,  and  two  in  thickness—the 
sides  beautifully  carved. 
"The  extreme  ends  of  the  side-walls  are  about 


284 


QIIEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


equidistant  from  those  of  the  shrine  and  entrance. 
The  space  intervening  is  filled  up  with  stones  and 
rubbish  of  walls,  showing  a  connexion  in  the  form  of  a 
curve.  In  the  space  formed  by  these  walls  are  piles 
of  stones,  evidently  being  a  part  of  them  ;  but  there 
were  not  enough  of  them,  however,  to  carry  out  the 
supposition  that  this  vast  temple  had  ever  been  enclosed. 
At  the  outer  base  of  the  southern  wall  arc  tho  remains 
of  a  room  ;  one  side  of  which,  with  the  angular 
ceiling,  is  quite  perfect ;  measuring  fourteen  feet  long 
and  six  wide.  The  parts  remaining  are  finished  with 
sculptured  blocks  of  stone  of  about  one  foot  square, 
representing  Indian  figures  with  feather  head-dresses, 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  their  noses  ornamented 
with  rings;  carrying  in  one  hand  bows  and  arrows, 
and  in  the  other  a  musical  instrumen  similar  to  those 
that  are  now  used  by  the  Indians  of  the  country. 
These  figures  were  interspersed  with  animals  resembling 
the  crocodile.  Near  this  room  I  found  a  square  pillar, 
only  five  feet  of  which  remained  above  the  ruins.  It 
was  carved  on  all  sides  with  Indian  figures,  as  large  as 
life,  and  apparently  in  warlike  attitudes.  Fragments 
of  a  similar  kind  were  scattered  about  in  the  vicinity. 

"  From  this  room,  or  base,  I  passed  round,  and 
ascended  over  vast  piles  of  the  crumbling  ruins,  pulling 
myself  up  by  the  branches  of  trees,  with  which  they 
are  covered,  to  the  top  of  the  wall ;  where  I  found  a 
door-way,  filled  up  with  stones  and  rubbish,  which  I 
removed,  and,  after  much  labour,  effected  an  entrance 
into  a  room  measuring  eight  by  twenty-four  feet ;  the 
ceiling  of  which  was  of  the  acute-angled  arch,  and 
perfected  by  layers  of  flat  stones.     The  walls  were 


>mmSC2 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


287 


finely  finished  with  square  blocks  of  stone,  which  had 
been  richly  ornamented.  Even  yet  the  heads  of  Indians, 
with  shields  and  lances,  could  be  distinguished  in  the 
colouring. 

"The  square  pillars  of  the  door-way  are  carved  with 
Indians,  flowers,  borders,  and  spear-heads ;  all  of  which 
I  judged  to  have  once  been  coloured.  The  lintel,  which 
supported  the  top,  is  of  the  zuporte  wood,  beautifully 
carved,  and  in  good  preservation.  One  of  the  Indian 
head-  dresses  was  composed  of  a  cap  and  flowers. 

"Immediately  in  front  of  the  door-way  is  a  portion 
of  a  column,  to  which  neither  cap  nor  base  was  attached. 
It  measured  about  three  feet  in  diameter,  with  its  whole 
surface  sculptured ;  but  it  was  so  obliterated  by  time, 
that  the  lines  could  not  be  traced.  Four  feet  of  its 
length  only  could  be  discovered.  It  was,  evidently, 
imbedded  in  the  ruins  to  a  great  depth.  Numerous 
blocks  of  square  hewn  stones,  and  others,  variously  and 
beautifully  carved,  were  lying  in  confusion  near  this 
column. 

"  Of  the  exterior  of  these  walls,  a  suflScient  portion 
still  exists  to  show  the  fine  and  elaborate  workmanship 
of  the  cornices  and  entablatures,  though  the  latter  are 
much  broken  and  defaced.  They  are  composed  of 
immense  blocks  of  stone,  laid  with  the  greatest  regu- 
larity and  precision,  the  fagades  of  which  are  inter- 
spersed with  flower   borders,  and  animals. 

"From  this  portion  of  the  ruins  I  cut  my  way, 
through  a  dense  mass  of  trees  and  vegetation,  to  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  walls,  the  top  of  which  was 
much  dilapidated,  and  obstructed  with  occasional  piles 
of  broken  and  hewn  stone.    On  my  return,  I  descended 


rrr^'. 


288 


ORRAT   CrnK,<5   OF   TUB   WORLD. 


to,  and  walked  nlon;;  the  outMide  base  of  the  wall  to  the 
rear  of  the  Hhririe,  and  over  immense  blocks  of  hewn 
and  carved  Btone,  Home  of  which  were,  no  doubt,  the 
butmentH  <>f  altar  walls ;  as  similar  blocks  were  near 
hero  appropriated  to  »uch  purposes. 

"  I  returned  by  the  outside  of  the  northern  wall. 
The  whole  distance  was  filled  up  with  hen  [is  df  ruins, 
overgrown  with  trees  and  vines;  through  which  I 
cleared  my  way  with  the  groate.st  diflicnlty. 

"  Situated  about  three  rods  south-west  of  the  luins 
of  the  Dome, are  those  of  the  IIousk  ov  tiir  OvciyuES. 
I  cut  my  way  through  the  thick  growth  of  tiiiiall  wood 
to  this  sublime  pile,  and  by  the  aid  of  my  compass  was 
enabled  to  reach  the  east  front  of  the  building.  Here 
I  felled  the  trees  that  hid  it,  and  the  whole  front  was 
opened  to  my  view,  presenting  the  most  strange  and 
incomprehensible  pile  of  architecture  that  my  eyes  ever 
beheld — elaborate,  elegant,  stupendous,  yet  lielonging 
to  no  order  now  known  to  us.  The  fiont  of  this 
wonderful  edifice  measures  thirty-two  feet,  and  its 
height  twenty,  extending  to  the  main  building  fifty  foet. 
Over  the  door-way,  which  favours  the  Egyptian  style 
of  architecture,  is  a  heavy  lintel  of  stone,  containing 
two  double  rows  of  hieroglyphics,  with  a  sculptured 
ornament  intervening.  Above  these  are  the  remains 
of  hooks  carved  in  stone,  with  raised  lines  of  drapery 
running  through  them  ;  which,  apparently,  have  been 
broken  off  by  the  falling  of  the  heavy  finishing  from 
the  top  of  the  building  ;  over  which,  surrounded  by  a 
variety  of  chaste  and  beautifully  executed  borders, 
encircled  within  a  wreath,  is  a  female  figure  in  a  sitting 
posture,   in    basso-relievo,   having    a    head-dress    of 


J 


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ANCIRNT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


291 


feathers  cords,  and  tassels,  and  the  neck  ornamented, 
ihc  angles  of  this  building  are  tastefully  curved.  The 
ornaraonts  continue  around  the  sides,  which  are  divided 
into  two  compartments,  different  in  their  arrangement 
though  not  in  style.  Attached  to  the  angles  are  large 
projecting  hooks,  skilfully  worked,  and  perfect  rosettes 
and  stars,  with  spears  reversed,  are  put  together  with 
the  utmost  precision. 

"  The  ornaments  »re  composed  of  small  square  blocks 
of  stone,  cut  to  the  depth  of  about  one  to  one  and  a 
half  inches,  apparently  with  the  most  delicate  instru- 
ments,   and   inserted   by  a  shaft   in   the   wall.     The 
wall  is  made  of  large  and  uniformly  square  blocks  of 
limestone,  set  in  a  mortar  which  appears  to  be  as  durable 
as  the  stone  itself.     In  the  ornamental  borders  of  this 
building  I  could  discover  but  little  analogy  with  those 
known  to  me.     The  most  striking  were  those  of  the 
cornice  and  entablature,  chevron  and  the  cable  moulding, 
whwh  are  characteristic  of  the  Norman  architecture. 

" The  sidvs  have  three  door-ways,  each  opening  into 
small  apartments,  which  are  finished  with  smooth  square 
blocks  of  stone;  the  floors  of  the  same  material,  but 
have  been  covered  with  cement,  which  is  now  broken. 
The  apartments  are  small,  owing  to  the  massive  walls 
enclosing  them,  and  the  acute-angled  arch,  forming  the 
ceiling.  The  working  and  laying  of  the  stone  are  as 
perfect  as  they  could  have  been  under  the  directions 
of  a  modern  architect." 

Mr.  Norman  thus  describes  the  ruins  of  Zayi,  an 
ancient  city  in  Yucatan  : — 
"  The  Ruins  of  Zayi  are  situated  in  the  midat  of  a 


292 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


succession  of  beautiful  hills,  forming  around  them,  on 
evfery  side,  an  enchanting  landscape. 

"  The  principal  one  is  composed  of  a  single  structure, 
an  immense  pile,  facing  the  south,  and  standing  upon 
a  slight  natural  elevation.  The  first  foundation  is  now 
80  broken  that  its  original  form  cannot  be  fully  deter- 
mined ;  but  it  probably  was  that  of  a  parallelogram. 
Its  front  wall  shows  the  remains  of  rooms  and  ceilings, 
with  occasional  pillars,  whioh,  no  doubt,  supported  the 
corridors.  The  height  of  this  wall  is  about  twenty 
feet,  and,  as  near  as  I  was  able  to  measure  around  its 
base,  (owing  to  the  accumulation  of  ruins,)  it  was 
ascertained  to  be  two  hundred  and  sixty-eight  fee 
long,  and  one  hundred  and  sixteen  wide. 

"  In  the  centre  of  this  fouadation  stands  the  main 
building,  the  western  half  only  remaining,  with  a  portion 
of  the  steps,  outside,  leading  to  the  top.  This  part 
shows  a  succession  of  corridors,  occupying  the  wliole 
front,  each  supported  by  two  pillars,  with  plain  square 
caps  and  plinths,  and  intervening  spaces,  filled  with 
rows  of  small  ornamented  pillars.  In  the  rear  of  these 
corridors  are  rooms  of  small  dimensions  and  angular 
ceilings,  without  any  light  except  that  which  the  front 
aflFords.  Over  these  corridors,  or  pillars,  is  a  fine 
moulding  finish,  its  angle  ornamented  with  a  hook 
similar  to  tho>=e  of  Chi-Chen.  Above  this  moulding  is 
a  finish  of  small  plain  round  pillars,  or  standards, 
interspersed  with  squares  of  fine  ornamental  carvings  ; 
the  centre  of  the  facade  showing  the  remains  of  more 
elaborate  work,  concentrated  within  a  border,  the 
arrangement  of  which  is  lost.  There  is  an  evident 
analogy  existing  between  these  ornaments  and  those 


'6^  ) 


tt 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


295 


of  Kahbah,  but  order  is  less  apparent.     I  could  discover 
no  resemblance  whatever  to  those  of  Chi-Chen. 

"  Over  these  rooms  of  the  main  building  is  another 
terrace,  or  foundation,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a 
building  in  similar  ruins  to  those  under  it;  haying 
also,  broken  steps  leading  to  the  top.  It  stands  upon 
a  foundation,  apparently,  of  six  to  eight  feet  in  height, 
occupying  about  two-thirds  of  the  area  ;  the  residue, 
probably,  forming  a  promenade.  There  are  three 
doorways  yet  remaining,  the  lintels  and  sides  of  which 
are  broken,  and  which  have  caused  the  walls  above  to 
fall  down.  The  walls  of  this  part  of  the  edifice  are 
constructed  of  hewn  stone,  without  any  signs  of  orna- 
ment. A  plain  finished  moulding  runs  through  the 
centre ;  portions  of  the  cornice  stUl  remain,  with  three 
or  four  pieces  of  flat  projecting  stones,  which  formed  a 
part  of  the  top  finish. 

"The  whole  extent  of  the  rear  is  covered  with 
confused  piles  of  ruins,  overgrown  with  trees.  Near 
by  these  are  fragments  of  walls  and  rooms,  with  a  few 
ornaments  yet  remaining  about  them.  Some  of  the 
rooms  appear  to  have  been  single,  and  apart  from  all 
other  buildings.  There  are  also  various  mounds  in 
the  vicinity." 

For  an  account  of  seme  of  the  more  remarkable 
ruins  in  Mexico  proper,  which  we  subjoin,  we  are 
indebted  to  the  lively  and  entertaining  work  of  Brantz 
Mayer,  Esq.,  of  Baltimore,  entitled  "Mexico,  As  it 
Was  and  As  it  Is."  The  following  is  extracted  from 
his  description  of  the  ruins  of  the  pyramid  of  Xochi- 
ealco : — 

"At  the  distance  of  six  leagues  from  the  city  of 


208 


(JREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


Bl'INS  OF  SOCHIOALOO. 


Cuernavaca  lies  a  ccrro,  three  hundred  feet  in  height, 
which,  with  the  ruins  that  crown  it  is  known  by  the 
name  of  XochicaTco,  or  the  "  Hill  of  Flowers."  The 
base  of  this  eminence  is  surrounded  by  the  very  distinct 
remains  of  a  deep  and  wide  ditch ;  its  summit  is 
attained  by  five  spiral  terraces ;  the  walls  that  support 
them  are  built  of  stone,  joined  by  cement,  and  are  still 
quite  perfect ;  and  at  regular  distances,  as  \f  to  buttress 
these  terraces,  there  are  remains  of  bulwarks  shaped 
like  the  bastions  of  a  fortification.  The  summit  of  the 
hill  is  a  wide  esplanade,  on  the  eastern  side  of  which 
are  still  perceptible  three  truncated  cones,  resembling 
the  tumuli  among  many  similar  ruins  in  Mexico.  On 
the  other  sides  there  are  also  large  heaps  of  loose  stones 


1 


Ji 


!N 


L_ 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


299 


of  irregular  shape,  vrhich  seem  to  have  formed  por» 
tions  of  similar  mounds  or  tumuli,  or,  perhaps,  parte 
of  fortifications  in  eonnoction  mth  the  wall  that  is 
alleged  by  the  old  writers  to  have  surrounded  the  base 
of  the  pyramid,  but  of  which  I  could  discern  no  traces. 

"  The  stones  forming  parts  of  the  conical  remains, 
have  evidently  been  shaped  by  the  hand  of  art,  and  are 
often  found  covered  with  an  exterior  coat  of  mortar, 
specimens  of  which  I  took  away  with  me,  as  sharp  and 
perfect  as  the  day  it  was  laid  on  centuries  ago, 

"Near  the  base  of  the  last  terrace,  on  which  the 
pyramid  rises,  tlw  esplanade  is  covered  with  trees  and 
tangled  vines,  but  the  body  of  the  platform  is  cultivated 
as  a  oorn-fiold.  We  found  the  Indian  owner  at  work 
in  it,  and  were  supplied  by  him  with  the  long-desired 
comfort  of  a  gourd  of  water.  He  then  pointed  out  to 
U3  the  way  to  the  summit  of  the  terrace  through  the 
thick  brumbies ;  and  rearing  our  horses  up  the  crumb- 
ling stones  of  the  wall,  we  stood  before  the  ruins  of  this 
interesting  pyramid,  the  remains  of  which,  left  by  the 
neighbouring  planters  after  they  had  borne  away 
enough  to  build  the  walls  of  their  haciendas,  now  lie 
buried  in  a  grove  of  palmcttoes,  bananas,  and  forest- 
trees,  apparently  the  growth  of  many  hundred  years. 

"  Indeed,  this  pyramid  seems  to  have  been  (like  the 
Forum  and  Coliseum  at  Rome,)  the  quarry  for  all  the 
builders  in  the  vicinity ;  and  Alzatc,  who  visited  it  as 
far  back  as  1777,  relates,  that  not  more  than  twenty 
years  before,  the  five  terraces  of  which  it  consisted,  were 
still  pevfect ;  and  that  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  upper 
platform  there  had  been  a  magnificent  throne  carved 
f    o  porphyry,  and  covered  with  hieroglyphics  of  the 


800 


GUKAT   CiTIKSi   OF   THE    WORLD. 


most  graceful  sculpture.  Soon  after  this  period,  how- 
ever, the  work  of  destruction  woe  begun  by  ti  certain 
Estrada,  and  it  is  not  more  than  a  couple  of  years 
since  one  of  tho  wealthiest  planters  of  the  neighbourhood 
ended  the  line  of  spoilors  by  carrying  oft"  eneinKma 
loads  of  the  squared  and  sculptured  materials,  to  build 
a  tank  in  a  barranca  to  bathe  his  cattle  !  All  that  now 
remains  of  tho  five  stories,  terraces,  or  bodies  of  the 
pyramid,  are  portions  of  the  first,  the  whole  of  which 
is  of  dressed  porphyritic  rock,  covered  with  singular 
figures  and  hieroglyphics  executed  in  a  skilful  manner. 
The  engraving  on  page  290  presents  »  general  vie^v  of 
the  ruins  as  seen  from  the  westward. 

"The  basement  is  a  rectangular  building,  and  its 
dimensions  on,  the  northern  front,  measured  above  the 
plinth,  are  sixty-four  feet  in  length,  by  fifty  eight  in 
depth  on  the  western  front.  The  height  between  the 
plinth  and  frieze  is  nearly  ten  feet ;  the  breadth  of  the 
frieze  is  three  feet  and  a  half,  and  of  the  cornice  one 
foot  and  five  inches*  I  plaeed  my  compass  on  the  wall, 
and  found  the  lines  of  the  edifice  to  correspond  exactly 
with  the  cardinal  points." 

Of  the  ruins  of  the  pyramid  of  Teotihuacan,  Mr. 
Mayer  gives  the  following  account : 

"On  leaving  the  town  our  road  lay  in  a  north- 
easterly direction,  through  a  number  of  picturesque 
villages  buried  in  foliage,  and  fenced  with  the  organ 
eactui,  lifting  its  tall  pillar-like  stems  to  a  height  of 
twenty  feet  above  the  ground.  The  country  was  roll- 
ing, and  we  passed  over  several  elevations  and  a  stream 
or  two  before  we  turned  suddenly  to  the  right,  and  saw 
the  village  of  St.  Juan  with  an  extensive  level  beyond 


'1 


■T? 


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^"'"S 

4,^' 


ANCIENT   CITLES    OP   AMERICA. 


303 


it,  bordero.l  on  all  sides  by  mountains,  except  towards 
the  east,  where  a  deep  depression  in  the  chain  leads 
into  till'  phiins  of  Otumba.  In  the  centre  of  this  level 
are  the  pyramid.s  of  Tcotihnjuinn.  and  thn  annexed 
engraving  will  give  you  an  accurate  idua  of  their 
position,  and  the  present  appearance  from  this  point." 
Mr.  Mayer's  account  uf  the  aqueduct  of  Tczcosingo, 
is  very  interesting.     He  says: 

"  Directly  at  the  foot  of  the  eminence  on  which  wo 
rested,  there  was  an  extensive  Indian  remain.  By  an 
able  system  of  engineering,  the  water  had  been  brought 
by  the  ancients  from  the  eastern  sierra,  for  a  distance, 
probably,  of  three  leagues,  by  conduits  across  barrancas 
and  along  the  sides  of  the  hill ;  and  the  ruin  below  us 
was  that  of  one  of  these  aqueducts,  across  a  ravine 
about  a  hundred  feet  in  elevation. 

"  You  will  find  a  view  of  this  work  in  the  annexed 
picture.  The  base  of  the  two  conduit  pipes  is  raised 
to  tho  required  level  on  stones  and  masonry,  and  the 
canals  for  the  water  are  made  of  an  exceeding  hard 
cement,  of  mortar  and  fragments  of  pounded  brick. 
Although,  of  course,  long  since  abandoned,  it  is,  in 
many  places,  as  perfect  as  on  the  day  of  its  completion ; 
and  perhaps  as  good  a  work,  for  all  the  necessary  pur- 
poses, as  could  be  formed  at  the  present  day  by  the 
most  expert  engineers. 

"  The  view  over  the  valley,  to  the  north,  towards  tho 
pyramids  of  Teotihuacan,  and  across  the  lake  to 
Mexico  was  unintarrupted ;  and  the  city  (beyond  the 
waters,  surrounded  by  a  mirage  on  the  distant  plain) 
seemed  placed  again,  as  it  was  three  hundred  years  ago, 
in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  lake. 


h 


M 


S04 


GIVBAT  CITIES   OF  THE    WOHf  B. 


"After  we  had  finished  our  meal,  we  gave  a  Btnall 
compensation  tc  the  Indian,  and  resumed  our  route 
f/jWrtf'?  Tezcosingo.  The  road,  tr.>^  a  long  distance, 
lay  ovcf  »n  extensive  table-land,  wi  h  a  deep  valley 
north  and  south,  filled  on  both  sides  with  haciendas, 
villages,  and  plantations.  We  crossed  the  shoulder  of 
a  mountain,  and  descended  half  way  a  second  ravine, 
near  the  eighth  of  a  mile  in  extent,  until  we  struck  the 
level  of  another  ancient  aqueduct,  that  led  the  waters 
directly  to  the  hill  of  Tezcosingo.  This  elevation  wns 
broader,  firmer,  and  oven  in  better  preservation  than  the 
first.     It  may  be  crossed  on  horseback — three  abreast. 

*'  As  soon  as  wo  struck  the  celebrated  hill,  we  began 
ascending  rapidly  by  an  almost  imperceptible  cattle- 
path,  among  gigantic  cacti,  whose  tho-ns  tore  our  skins 
as  wo  brushed  by  them.  Over  the  whole  surface  there 
were  remains  of  a  spiral  road  cut  from  the  living  rock, 
strewn  with  fragments  of  pottery,  Indian  arrows,  and 
broken  sacrificial  knives ;  while,  occasionally,  we  passed 
over  the  ruins  of  an  aqueduct  winding  round  the  hill. 
The  eminence  seems  to  have  been  converted,  from  its 
base  to  its  summit,  (a  distance  of  perhaps  five  hundred 
feet,)  into  a  pile  of  those  terraced  gardens,  so  much 
admired  by  every  tourist  who  falls  into  raptures  among 
the  romantic  groves  of  Isola  Bella. 

The  ruins  of  Quemada,  lying  north  of  the  city  of 
Mexico,  in  the  department  of  Zacatccas,  are  very 
extensive,  and  must  be  referred  to  a  very  remote 
period  of  antiquity.  The  view  of  a  portion  of  them, 
which  we  give,  embraces  the  court-yard  of  a  temple,  as 
drawn  by  M.  Nebel.  Captain  Lyon,  quoted  by  Mr. 
Mayer,  describes  them  in  the  following  terms : 


I 


v^ 


ANCIENT  CITIES  oF  AMERICA. 


807 


"We  set  out,"  says  ho,  "on  our  expedition  to  the 
Ccrro  de  loa  Edificios,  under  the  guidance  of  an  old 
ranchcro,  and  soon  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  abrupt 
and  steep  rock  on  which  the  buildings  are  situated. 
Here  we  percteived  two  ruined  heaps  of  stones,  flanking 
the  entrance  to  a  causeway  ninety-three  feet  broad, 
commencing  at  four  hundred  feet  from  the  cliff. 

"  A  space  of  about  six  acres  has  been  inclosed  by  a 
broad  wall,  of  which  the  foundations  are  still  visible, 
running  first  to  the  south  and  afterward  to  the  east. 
Off  its  south-western  angle  stands   a   high  mass  of 
stones,  which  flanks  the  causeway.    In  outward  appear- 
ance it  is  of  pyramidal  form,  owing  to  the  quantities 
of  stones  piled  against  it,  either  by  design  or  by  its 
own  ruin  ;  but  on  closer  examination  its  figure  could  be 
traced  by  the  remains  of  solid  walls,  to  have  been  a 
square  of  thirty-one  feet  by  the  same  height :  the  heap 
immediately  opposite  is  lower  and  more  scattered,  but 
in  all  probability  formerly  resembled  it.     Hence  the 
grand  causeway  runs  to  the  north-east  until  it  reaches 
the  ascent  of  a  cliff,  which,  as  I  have  already  observed, 
is  about  four  hundred  yards  distant.     Hero  again  are 
found  two  masses  of  ruins,  in  which  may  be  traced  the 
same  construction  as  that  before  described ;  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that  these  two  towers  guarded  the  inner 
entrance  to  the  citadel.    In  the  centre  of  the  causeway, 
which  is  raised  about  a  foot,  and  has  its  rough  pave- 
ment uninjured,  is  a  large  heap  of  stones,  as  if  the 
remains  of  some  altar;  round  which  we  could  trace, 
notwithstanding  the  accumulation  of  earth  and  vegeta- 
tion, a  paved  border  of  flat  slabs  arranged  in  the  figure 
of  a  six-rayed  star. 


308 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


"  We  did  not  enter  the  city  by  the  principal  road,  but 
led  our  horses,  with  some  difficulty,  up  the  steep  mass 
formed  by  the  ruins  of  a  defensive  wall,  inclosing  a  quad- 
rangle two  hundred  and  forty  feet  by  two  hundred,  which 
to  the  east  is  still  shelte  cd  by  a  strong  wall  of  unhewn 
stones,  eight  feet  in  thickness,  and  eighteen  in  height. 
A  raised  terrace  of  twenty  feet  in  Avidth,  passes  round 
the  northern  and  eastern  sides  of  this  space,  and  on  its 
south-east  corner  is  yet  standing  a  round  pillar  of 
rough  stones,  of  the  same  height  as  the  wall,  and  nine- 
teen feet  in  circumference. 

"  There  appear  to  have  been  five  other  pillars  on  the 
east,  and  four  on  the  northern   terrace;  and  as  the 
view  of  the  plain  which  lies  to  the  south  and  west  is 
hence  very  extensive,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
square   has   always    been   open   in    these   directions. 
Adjoining  to  this,  we  entered  by  the  eastern  side  to 
another  quadrangle,   entirely   surrounded   by  perfect 
walls  of  the  same  height  and  thickness  as  the  former 
one,  and  measuring  one  hundred  and  fifty -four  feet  by 
one  hundred  and  thirty-seven.    In  this  were  yet  stand- 
ing  fourteen    very  well-constructed   pillars,   of  equal 
dimensions  with  that  ia  the  adjoining  inclosurc,  and 
arranged,  four  in  length  and  three  in  breadth  of  tlio 
quadrangle,  from  which  on  every  side  they  separated  a 
space  of  twenty-three    feet   in   width :  probably   the 
pavement  of  a  portico  of  which  they  once  supported 
the  roof.     In  their  construction,  as  well  as  that  of  all 
the  walls  which  we  saw,  a  common  clay  having  straw 
mixed  with  it  has  been  used,  and  is  yet  visible  in  those 
places  which  are  sheltered  from  the  rains.     Rich  grass 
was  growing  in  the  spacious  courts  where  Aztec  mon- 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OP  AMERICA. 


809 


archs  may  once  have  feasted  ;  and  our  cattle  were  ao 
delighted  with  it  that  we  left  them  to  graze  while  Wtt 
walked  about  three  hundred  jnnh  to  the  northward, 
over  a  very  wide  parapet,  and  reiched  a  perfect,  square, 
flat-topped  pyramid  of  large  unhewn  stones.     It  was 
standing  unattached  to  any  other  buildings,  at  the  foot 
of  the  eastorn  brow  of  the  mountain,  which  rises  abruptly 
behind  it.     On  the  eastern  face  is  a  platform  of  twenty- 
eight  feet  in  width,  faced  by  a  parapet  wall  of  fifteen 
feet,   and    from    the    base  of  this    extends    a    second 
phitform    with    a    parapet    like    the   former,   and   one 
hundred  and  eighteen  feet  wide.     These  form  the  outer 
defensive  boundary  of  the  mountain,  which  from  its  fig- 
ure has  mateiially  favoured  their  construction.     There 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  eastern  face  must 
have  been  of  great  importance.     A  slightly  raised  and 
pa.-ed   causeway   of   about   twenty-five    feet   descends 
across  ti.e  valley,  in  the  direction  of  the  rising  sun : 
and  being  continued  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  stream 
which  flows  through  it,  can  be  traced  up  the  mountains 
at  two  miles'  distance,  until  it  terminates  at  the  base 
of  an  immense  stone  edifice,  which  probably  may  also 
have  been  a  pyramid.     Although  a  stream  (Rio  del 
Partido)  runs  meandering  through  the  plain  from  the 
northward,  about  midway  between   the   two   eleviited 
buildings,  I  can  scarcely  imagine  that  the  causeway 
should   have  been  formed  for   the   purpose  of  bring- 
ing  water   to  the   city,   which    is  far    more  easy   of 
access  in  many  other  directions  much  nearer  to  the 
river,  but  must  have  been  constructed  for  important 
purposes  between  the  two  places  in  question  ;  and  it  is 
not  improbable,  that  it  once  formed  the  street  between 


810 


OBUAT  CITIBS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


the  frail  huts  of  the  poorer  inhabitants.  The  base  of 
the  large  pyramid  measured  fifty  feet,  and  I  ascertained 
by  ascending  with  a  line,  that  its  height  was  precisely 
the  same.  Its  flat  top  was  covered  with  earth  and  a 
little  vegetation ;  and  our  guide  asserted,  although  he 
knew  not  whence  he  received  the  information,  that  it 
was  once  surmounted  by  a  statue.  Off  the  south-east 
corner  of  this  building,  and  at  about  fifteen  yards 
distant,  is  to  be  seen  the  edge  of  a  circle  of  stones 
about  eight  feet  in  diameter,  inclosing,  as  far  as  we 
could  judge  on  scraping  away  the  soil,  a  bowl-shaped 
pit,  in  which  the  action  of  fire  was  plainly  observable ; 
and  the  earth,  from  which  we  picked  some  pieces  of 
pottery,  was  evidently  darkened  by  an  admixture  of 
soot  or  ashes.  At  the  distance  of  one  hundred  yards 
south-west  of  the  large  pyramid,  is  a  small  one,  twelve 
feet  square,  and  much  injured.  This  is  situated  on 
somewhat  higher  ground,  in  the  steep  part  of  the 
ascent  to  the  mountain's  brow.  On  its  eastern  face, 
which  is  toward  the  declivity,  the  height  is  eighteen 
feet ;  and  apparently  there  have  been  steps  by  which 
to  descend  to  a  quadrangular  space,  having  a  broad 
terrace  round  it,  and  extending  east  one  hundred  feet 
by  a  width  of  fifty.  In  the  centre  of  this  inclosure  is 
another  bowl-shaped  pit,  somewhat  wider  than  the  first. 
Hence  we  began  our  ascent  to  the  upper  works,  over  a 
well-buttressed  yet  ruined  wall,  built,  to  a  certain 
extent,  so  as  to  derive  advantage  from  the  natural 
abruptness  of  the  rock.  Its  height  on  the  steepest  side 
is  twenty-one  feet,  and  the  width  on  the  summit,  which 
is  level,  with  an  extensive  platform,  is  the  same.  This 
is  a  double  wall,  one  of  ten  feet  having  been  first  con- 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


811 


Btructed,  and  then  covered  with  a  very  smooth  kind  of 
cement,  after  which  the  second  has  been  built  against 
it.    The  platform  (which  faces  to  the  south,  and  may 
to  a  certain  extent  be  considered  as  a  ledge  from  the 
cliff,)  is  eighty-nine  feet  by  seventy-two;  and  on  its 
northern  centre  stand  the  ruins  of  a  square  building, 
having  within  it  an  open  space  of  ten  feet  by  eight] 
and  of  the  same  depth.    In  the  middle  of  the  quad- 
rangle is  to  be  seen  a  mound  of  stones  eight  feet  high. 
A  little  farther  on,  we  entered  by  a  broad  opening 
between  two  perfect  and  massive  walls,  to  a  square  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.    This  space  was  surrounded 
on  the  south,  east,  and  west,  by  an  elevated  terrace  of 
three  feet  by  twelve  in  breadth,  having  in  the  centre 
of  each  side  steps,  by  which  to  descend  to  the  square. 
Each  terrace  was  backed  by  a  wall  of  twenty  feet  by 
eight  or  nine.  From  the  south  are  two  broad  entrances, 
and  on  the  east  is  one  of  thirty  feet,  communicating 
with  a  perfect  inclosed  square  of  two  hundred  feet, 
while  on  the  west  is  one  small  opening,  leading  to  an 
artificial  cave  or  dungeon. 

"  To  the  north  the  square  is  bounded  by  the  steep 
mountain,  and  in  the  centre  of  that  side  stands  a  pyra- 
mid with  several  ledges,  or  stages,  which  in  many 
places  are  quite  perfect.  It  is  flat-topped,  has  four 
sides,  and  measures  at  the  base  thirty-eight  by  thirty- 
five  feet,  while  in  height  it  is  nineteen.  Immediately 
behind  this,  and  on  all  that  portion  of  the  hill  which 
presents  itself  to  the  square,  are  numerous  tiers  of  seats, 
either  broken  in  the  rock  or  built  of  rough  stones. 
In  the  centre  of  the  square,  and  due  south  of  the  pyra- 
mid, is  a  small  quadrangular  building,  seven  feet  by 


312 


GREAT    ClTlKfi    Ui     I'Hii    WJULD. 


TEMPI.R  AT  TUSAPAN. 


five  in  height.  The  summit  is  imperfect,  but  it  has 
unquestionably  been  an  altar;  and  from  the  whole 
character  of  the  space  in  which  it  stands,  the  peculiar 
form  of  the  pyramid,  the  surrounding  torrace,  and  the 
seats  or  steps  on  the  mountain,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  this  has  been  the  grand  Hall  of  Sacrifice  or 
Assembly,  or  perhaps  both. 

"The  village  of  Papantla,"  says  Mr.  Mayer,  "lies 
sixteen  leagues  from  the  sea,  and  fifty-two  north  from 
Vera  Cruz,  at  the  base  of  the  eastern  mountains,  in 
the  midst  of  fertile  savannahs  constantly  watered  by 
streams  from  neighbouring  hills.  Although  it  is  the 
centre  of  a  country  remarkable  for  fertility,  the  Indian 


ANCIWNi  CrriliS  Oh'  AMERICA. 


818 


I'lllAMID  OK  PAPAMIA. 

Village  lias  scarcely  a  toJntc  inhabitant,  with  the  excep- 
tion oTT  the  curate,  an.]  some  few  dealers,  who  come 
from  the  coast  to  tralT.c  their  wares  for  the  products  of 
the  soil.  The  people  of  the  upper  country  dialike  to 
venture  into  the  heat  and  disease  of  the  tien-a  caliente  ; 
and,  m  turn,  its  inhabitants  dislike  an  exposure  to  the 
chills  of  the  tiaras  frin,  templadas.  Thus  the  region 
ot  Papantla,  two  leagues  from  the  village,  has  hitherto 


1 


BU 


«KKAT   CITin  OF  TUB  IVORLD. 


remained  an  unexplored  nook,  even  at  the  short  dis- 
tance of  fifty  miles  from  the  coast;  and  although  it 
waB  alluded  to  by  Baron  Humboldt,  it  had  never  been 
correctly  drawn,  or  even  accurately  described  before 
the  visit  of  M.  Nebel.  The  neighbouring  Indians,  even, 
had  scarcely  seen  it,  and  considerable  local  knowledge 
was  required  to  trace  a  path  to  the  relic  through  the 
wild  and  tangled  forest. 

There  is  no  doubt,  from  the  manses  of  ruins  spread 
over  the  plain,  that  this  city  was  more  than  a  mile  and 
a  half  in  circuit.  Although  there  seems  good  reason 
to  believe  that  it  was  abandoned  by  its  builders  after 
the  conquest,  there  has  still  been  time  enough  both  for 
the  growth  of  the  forest  in  so  warm  and  prolific  a. 
climate,  and  for  the  gradual  destruction  of  the  build- 
ings by  the  seasons  and  other  causes.  Indeed,  huge 
trees,  trailing  plants,  and  parasite  vines  have  struck 
their  roots  among  the  crannies  and  joints  of  the  re- 
maining pyramid,  and,  in  a  few  years  more,  will  con- 
sign even  that  remnant  to  the  common  fate  of  the  rest 
of  the  city. 

"  The  above  plate  presents  a  vierr  of  the  pyramid, 
(called  by  the  natives,  'El  Tajin,')  as  seen  by  Nebel 
after  he  bad  cleared  it  of  trees  and  foliage.  It  consists 
of  seven  stories,  each  following  the  same  angle  of  in- 
clination, and  each  terminated,  as  at  Xochicalco,  by  a 
frieze  and  cornice.  The  whole  of  these  bodies  arc  con- 
structed of  sand-stone,  neatly  squared  and  joined,  and 
covered,  to  the  depth  of  three  inches,  with  a  strong 
cement,  which  appears,  from  the  remains  of  colour  in 
many  places,  to  have  been  entirely  painted.  The  pyra- 
mid measures  precisely  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet 


,  ->. — 


-Jj 


ANCIKNT   crriKS   OF   AMERICA. 


816 


PYRAMID  OP  MIBANTIA. 


on  every  side,  and  is  ascended,  in  front,  by  a  stairway 
of  fifty-seven  steps,  divided  in  three  places  by  small 
box-l,ke  recesses  or  niches,  two  feet  in  depth,  similar 
to  those  which  are  seen  perforating  the  frieze  of  each 
of  the  bod.es.     This  stairway  terminates  at  the  top  of 
the  s.xth   story,  the  seventh   appearing  (although  in 
rums)  to  have  been  unlike  the  rest,  and  hollow.     Hero 
most  probably,  was  the  shrine  of  the  divinity  and  tho 
phice  of  sacrifice." 

With  the  following  account  of  Misantla,  we  close  our 
extracts  from  the  entertaining  and  instructive  work  of 
Mr.  Mayer. 


816 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


"  Passing  by  the  Island  of  Sacrificios,  I  will  now  de- 
scribe the  ruins  that  were  discovered  as  recently  as 
1835,  adjacent  to  Misantla,  near  the  city  of  Jalapa, 
and  not  very  far  from  the  direct  road  to  the  capital. 

♦•  The  work  from  which  I  extract  my  information  ia 
the  Mosaico  Mexicano,  to  which  it  was  contributed,  I 
believe,  by  Don  Isidrio  Gondra. 

"  On  a  lofty  ridge  of  mountains  in  the  canton  of 
Misantla,  there  is  a  hill  called  Estillero,  (distant  some 
thirty  miles  from  Jalapa,)  near  which  lies  a  mountain 
covered  with  a  narrow  strip  of  table-land,  perfectly 
isolated  from  the  surrounding  country  by  steep  rocks 
and  inaccessible  barrancas.  Beyond  these  dells  and 
precipices  there  is  a  lofty  wall  of  hills,  from  the  sum- 
mit of  ono  of  which  the  sea  is  distinctly  visible  in  the 
direction  of  Nautly.  The  only  parts  of  the  country  by 
which  this  plain  is  accessible,  are  the  slopes  of  Estillero : 
on  all  other  sides  the  solitary  mountain  seems  (.  have 
been  separated  from  the  neighbouring  land  by  some 
violent  earthquake  that  sunk  the  earth  to  an  unfathomed 
depth. 

"  On  this  secluded  and  isolated  eminence,  are  situated 
the  remains  of  an  ancient  city.  As  you  approach  the 
plain  by  the  slopes  of  Estillero,  a  broken  wall  of  large 
stones,  united  by  a  weak  cement,  is  first  observable. 
This  appears  to  have  served  for  protection  to  a  circular 
plaza,  in  the  centre  of  Avhich  is  a  pyramid  eighty  feet 
'  high,  forty-nine  feet  front,  and  for:y-two  in  depth. 
"  The  account  docs  not  state  positively  whether  this 
edifice  ia  constructed  of  stone,  but  it  is  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  it  is  so,  from  the  wall  found  around  the 
plaza,  and  the  remains  wiiich  Avill  be  subsequently  men 


A..'^IEM  C1TI1.:.S  OF  AMEUICA. 


817 


«oned.     It  is   divided  into  three  stories,   or  rather 

there  are  three  still  remaining.     On  the  broadest  fronl 

a  stau-way  leads  to  the  second  body,  which,  in  turn 

13  ascended  at  the  side,  while  the  top  of  the  third  is 

reached  by  steps  cut  in  the  corner  edge  of  the  pyramid. 

In  fron    of  the  teocalli,  on  the  second  story,  are  two 

pilastral  columns,  which  may  have  formed  part  of  a 

staircase ;  but  this  portion  of  the  pyramid,  and  espe- 

c.ally  the  last  body,  is  so  overgrown  with  trees  that  its 

outhne   13    considerably  injured.     On    the   very   ton 

,dny.ng  its  roots  into  the  spot  that  was  doubtless  for^ 

merly  the  holy  place  of  the  temple,)  there  is  a  gigantic 

ree,  which  from  its  immense  size  in  this  comparatively 

ugh  and  temperate  region,  denotes  a  long  period  since 

the  abandonment  of  the  altar  where  it  grows. 

"At  the  periphery  of  the  circular  plaza  around  this 
pyramul,  commence  the  remains  of  a  town,  extending 
northerly  in  a  straight  line  for  near  a  league.  Im- 
mense square  blocks  of  stone  buildings,  separated  by 
streets  at  the  distance  of  about  three  hundred  yards 
from  each  other,  mark  the  sites  of  the  ancient  habita- 
tions,  fronting  upon  four  parallel  highways.  In  some 
of  the  houses  the  walls  are  still  three  or  four  feet  high 
but  of  most  of  them  there  is  nothing  but  an  outline 
tracery  of  the  mere  foundations.  On  the  south,  there 
are  the  remains  of  a  long  and  narrow  wall,  which  de- 
fended the  city  in  that  quarter. 

"North  of  the  town  there  is  a  tongue  of  land,  occu- 
pied  in  the  centre  by  a  mound,  or  cemetery.     On  the 
left  slope  of  the  hill  by  which  the  ruins  are  reached 
there  are,  also,  twelve  circular  sepulchres,  two  yards 
and  a  half  in  diameter,  and  as  many  high ;  the  walls 

27* 


318 


OilKAT  CniKS  OF  TUE  WOULD. 


aro  all  of  neatly  cut  stono,  hut  tlio  cement  with  which 
they  were  once  joined  luis  almost  cnliicly  rlisappcarcd 
In  these  sepulchres  several  hoilios  were  found,  parts  of 
which  were  in  tolerable  preservation. 

"Two  stones,  a  foot  and  a  half  long  by  half  a  foot 
wide,  were  discovered,  bearing  hieroglyphics,  which  are 
described,  in  general  terms,  as  « resembling  the  usual 
hieroglyphics  of  tho  Indians.'  Another  figure  was 
found,  representing  a  man  standing;  and  another,  cut 
out  of  a  firm  but  porous  stone,  which  was  intended  to 
portray  a  person  sitting  cross-legged,  with  the  arms 
also  crossed,  resting  on  his  knees.  This,  however,  was 
executed  in  a  very  inferior  style.  Near  it,  wore  dis- 
covered many  domestic  utensils,  which  were  carried  to 
Vera  Cruz,  ^Yhence  they  have  been  dispersed,  perhaps 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. 

"  It  is  thus,  in  the  neglect  of  all  antiquities  in  Mexico, 
in  the  midst  of  her  political  distractions  and  bloody 
revolutions,  that  every  vestige  of  her  former  history 
will  gradually  pass  to  foreign  countries,  instead  of 
enriching  the  cabinets  of  her  university,  and  stimulating 
the  inquisitiveness  of  her  scientific  students." 

I  will,  before  passing  to  the  subject  of  the  Mississippi 
and  Ohio  ruins,  merely  note  the  general  resemblance 
of  the  ruins  with  those  engraved  of  the  restoration  of 
the  Persepolitan  ruins.  That  the  Vedaic  religion,  if  I 
may  so  express  myself,  was  that  followed  by  the  Toltccs, 
I  have  little  doubt. 

But  decidedly  the  most  remarkable  circumstances 
connected  with  the  buildings  of  America,  is  the  simi- 
larity between  their  teo-callis  and  tho  pyramid  of  Bel 
or  Babel,  as  remarked  by  Dr.  Lang,  and  by  otliera 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


819 


before  and  after  him.  To  Dr.  Lang's  work  I  would 
refer  any  one  anxious  tu  get  at  the  facts  and  data  on 
which  his  arguments  are  founded. 

We  now  leave   the   ruins  of  Yucatan,  and  flying 
rapidly  over  the  mysterious  pyramids  of  Mexico,  we 
leave  the  sultry  arid  plains,  and  the  dark  cool  forests 
beliind,  and  looking  round,  see  before  us  another  and 
a  far  different  locality.     I  shall  introduce  my  account 
of  the  ruins  of  the  Western  States  of  America  by  some 
observations  contained  in  a  letter  from  Mr.  Brackenridge 
to  Jefferson :— "  Throughout  what  is  denominated  by 
Volney  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi,"  says  that  gentle- 
man, "  there  exists  the  traces  of  a  population  far  be- 
yond what  this  extensive  and  fertile  portion  of  the 
continent  is  supposed  to  have  possessed ;  greater,  per- 
haps, than  could  bo  supported,  by  the  present  white 
inhabitants,  even  with  the  careful  agriculture  practised 
in  the  most  populous  part  of  Europe.     The  reason  of 
this  is  to  be  found  in  the  peculiar  manners  in  the  inha- 
bitiints  by  whom  it  was  formerly  occupied ;  like  those 
of  Mexico,  their  agriculture  had  for  its  only  object 
their  own  sustenance;  no  surplus  was  demanded  for 
commerce  with  foreign  nations,  and  no  part  of  the  soil 
susceptible  of  culture  was  devoted  to  pasturage,  yet 
extensive  forests  filled  with  wild  animals  would  still 
rcmam.     .     .     .     We  must  in  this  way  account  for 
the  astonishing  population  of  the  vale  of  Mexico,  when 
first  known  to  the  Spaniards,  perhaps  equal  to  any  dis- 
trict of  the  same  extent  of  climate.     The  astonishing 
population  of  Owhyhee  and  Otaheite  must  be  accounted 
for  in  the  same  way.     ...     In  the  valley  of  the 
Mississippi,  there  are  discovered  the  traces  of  two  dis- 


L^ 


■*4-^4 


.  ';i- 


820 


OnKAT  ClI'IKS  OV  Tin:  H'lilU.rr. 


tinot  rncoa  of  jx'oplc,  or  periods  o['  popnltilinn  ;  ono 
much  moro  ntK-icut  (lum  lht>  othor.  Tlio  trace's  ttf  tho 
lust  aro  the  most  iiiiincroiis,  ItuI  mark  a  popnhiiiou  less 
ailvancoil  in  oivilizulioii ;  in  fact,  tlicy  l)«>liti);.!;  to  lli(« 
tiaino  raoo  that  existed  in  tho  country  when  th(*  French 
and  Kn.i^h'sh  en'eetod  their  setllenieuls  on  this  piirt  nf 
tho  contiufUit ;  hut  winco  tlio  itilercourNe  of  these  penphi 
with  tho  whites,  and  their  aslonishinij;  diminution  in 
nuvnhers,  many  of  tlieir  customs  have  fallen  into  disuso. 
Tiu>  appearances  of  fortilieatioiiH,  of  whicli 
80  much  iuis  l)ecu  said,  and  wdiicli  luivo  heen  attiibulcd 
to  a  colony  of  Wel(di,  aro  notliinj!;  nion>  thitu  tin)  traces 
of  palisadofMl  towns  or  vilhipea.  .  .  .  We  mi^ht 
be  warranted  in  eonsiderin;:;  the  ukmmuIs  of  th(^  Missis- 
sippi more  nneienl  than  tho  Tco-ealli ;  a  fact  worthy 
of  notice,  altliou^h  tlie  sta;^es  aro  still  plain  in  sonic  of 
them,  the  jjjrada lions  or  steps  have  disappeared,  in  tho 
course  of  time,  (ho  rains  ha\'e  washed  them  ofl'." 

Sir.  Uraekeni  idixe  oviilcntly  suspects  a  Polynesian 
origin  for  tho  constructors  of  those  mounds,  I)ut  his 
idea  is  not  expressed,  lie  considers  tho  'i'oltccs  to 
have  calibrated  from  this  district. 

Ono  of  tho  most  vcniarkablo  and  extensive  works  of 
dofeucos  constructed  by  tho  ancient  American  tril)cs, 
ia  that  on  tho  banks  of  tho  Little  Miami  river,  uhuiit 
thirty-five  miles  to  tho  north-oast  of  Cincinnati,  in 
Warren  County,  Ohio,  called  Fort- Ancient.  It  occu- 
pies* a  terrace  on  tho  left  bank  of  tho  Miami,  and  is 
situated  280  feet  above  tho  level:  of  the  river.  Tho 
position  is  naturally  strong,  bcirg  defended  by  two 

*Thi;i  iiffcount  is  oiirulgud  from  that  of  Louko,  in  tlio  I'niiurH  of  Ike 
Americim  AsHuciiition  of  Uoulugists  Rud  NiiUu'iiUtitii,  fur  1813. 


J 


i-iMsr: 


ANCFKNT   rVvw.fi   or    AMtcntCA. 


n2i 


niviii.'H,  \vl,i,.|.,  cninmoicli.^r  ,,11   tl,o  ,<nnf,  nid..  of  <!,„ 
'••iiiiiMilm  umrin  ,.n,.|,  ..(li.-r,  .livn-Ko  nn.l  HW.-rp  rmii.d, 


ciitniti^:  <lii»  iMidiiii,  (in 


Vnl'K-.       (hi    tlio 


vr 


,  iitw'  iil»uv<-  iiikI  |I|(>  ()t|i„r  licliiw  llin 
«c.H(,  III..  Miiiini,  Willi  iin  |in<ri|)iliMm 

ic  \ri-\f 


fM'l,  \n   ilHfir  llin    ilrr,.!!,.,..       (>|,    tl 
^'o  (.rill,.  mvin.H,  (otiillyHiinoiui.linir  ll 


^  lli(.  pciiliimilii, 


I"  <'llll.i.likni...it  (.r  ^)v..,t,  li(.i;j;|,t  1111(1   Mn-.i^lli  I,„M  I 


I'liiHcd 


"i"l  Mii'-li  nil  iiit(.iili(,n  WHM  paid  to  || 


M'CIl 


IC    IIH'lltl- 


•I'Miii-M  u\  iiH  ,,,„„m.,  iliMt  l'r..r,,HM..»'  r.ooh,.  n.qniiTd  |!M1 
H(ull.m,n  1.1  (•()ii,p|,.|„  ,|„.  Hiiivcy  |,n  mnd.-.     Tlio  wl.ulo 


"'    '•"'■<''   '>•   111   iiiaii.v   pl.HVH  twenty   |V..t  lii^li,   ii.Ml 
'■"'"I'"'*<'<l    «•!'   a    loiigli,    nllnviul    v] 


m 


Tl 


iiy,    without    Htdiic, 


I'-IO   IHIl.,C„MtllllMHIsdilc||,   Wll..ticcll|(5caitl 

'"■•"""I   <ii<"   work;   Init  piln,  Htill   to  Im,  d 


I  WIIH  (III 


K. 


Ki'ic  tlic  nnmct\  whence?  || 
rcNHfM-  L(M!k.'  liiiii;('ll'(!(.ncliidcH; 
"  l''in;illy,  I  am   iiMloniMlicd  to  h 


intin^niHli 
I"  »'iirtli  wax  oldaincd.      I 


ro- 


CO  a 


••"•'I',  "ri"rhnivin-ihcM((.nii«  of  tlioiiHimd 
nil  M)  entile  and  well  niiiikcd.     .Scvcrnl 


^vo|•k  Hiiiiply  of 

M  of  ycaiH, 

<iii'(;iiiiiHtanccM 

ii.y  of  wlii(di  it  Ih  hnilt 


liJivc  contrihiitcd  to  thiH.      Tho  cl 

i>'  "  -I.  ••■•'"il.y  pencinitcd  l.y  water.    "tIk,  hank  ImM  I 

'•'id  IM  Htill,  mostly  ,,ovc,cd   hy  a  forest  <d"  he.^cl.- 


Wlllcll 


liavo 


woven  a  Htron^r  web  „f  their  root 


K^t'vp  Hides;    and   a  fin(!   ]m\  nf 
Hcrv(!H  Btill  further  to  allord 


Kjen, 
tre(«. 


«  over  its 


prritoetion. 


rrioHH  {I'nhftrirliuw) 


H'fe  lire  ni(»ro   than   H(n'enty  gate 


ways  or  interrnp 


n-regnlar  intervals  al 


""K 


fions  in  the  einhankmentH,  at 

th«>  line.  Tliey  w(,re  j.rohahly,  as  HuppoH,.,!  hy  M,.„„,.h. 
hqinor  and  Davis,*  "  pla(;eH  once  (K.M.pied  hy  Mock, 
houses  or  bastions  cornposc.l  of  ti.nhor,  and  which  have 

•Aiiolnnl  MoniimnnU  of  the  Mli,„iMip,,|  Vallfly,  p.  JO. 


L 


ar  -r:— ;?gi 


822 


gHeat  cities  of  the  would. 


long  since  decayed."  This  fort  evidently  shows  ^reat 
military  skill,  and  might  indeed,  if  occasion  were  to 
require  it,  ha  again  used  for  its  original  purpose.  The 
work  appears  still  more  remarkable  when  we  consider 
that  it  Avas  constructed  without  any  other  aid  than 
human  hand.s. 

More  curious  than  the  foregoing  earthwork  are  the 
mounds  in  Dade  County,  Wisconsin,  about  seven  miles 
to  the  east  of  the  Blue  Mounds.     They  are  situated  on 
the   great    Indian    trail   or   war-path,    between    Lake 
Michigan  and  the  Mississippi,  and  are  six  efilgies  of 
quadrupeds,  six  parallelograms,  one  circular  tumulus, 
one  small  circle,  and  one  eifigy  of  the  human  figure, 
with  the  head  towards  the  west,  and  unnaturally  long 
arms.     These  tumuli  extend  about  half  a  mile  along 
the  trail.     What  the  animals  represented  in  elligy  are, 
it  is  not  easy  to  determine.     Some  have  supposed  the 
buflalo  to  be  the  animal  intended;   "but,"  as  Squier'*^ 
very  justly  remarks,  •'  the  absence  of  a  tail,  and  of  the 
characteristic   hump   of   that  animal,   would    seem   to 
point  to  a  different  conclusion  ;"  and,  besides,  I  may 
be  permitted  to  ask,  why  should  the  buffalo  be  the  ani- 
mal especially  chosen  ?     It  is  to  be  remarked  that  these 
effi'nes  have  their  head  turned  to  the  Avest,  which  cir- 
cumstance, together  with  the  position  of  the  head  of  the 
human  tumulus,  seems  to  me  to  signify  that  the  triles 
who  constructed  these  remarkable  mounds,  commemo- 
rated thereby  some  favourite  and  common  animal  of 
their  former  country,  which  lay  towards  the  west.     In 
examining  ancient  ruins  like  those  now  before  us,  we 
must  measure  the  reigr.ing  idea  by  an  ancient  standard ; 

»  Ancient  Monuments  of  the  Mississippi  VuUoy,  p.  I2fl. 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF  AMERICA. 


823 


and  tho  closer  wc  get  to  such  standard,  the  more  do  we 
approach  to  tho  truth.  In  speaking  of  these  traoea  of 
a  nation  sleeping  now  for  ever  the  death-sleep  of  time, 
we  must  approach  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  psycho- 
logical  conception  of  them,  and  take  into  consideration 
the  fondness  the  ancients  had  for  mysticism.  I  may 
mention,  likewise,  that  in  the  north-western  part  of  tho 
Hindo-Chinese  countries,  similar  circular  and  oblong 
tumuli  are  to  bo  found,  and,  if  I  recollect  right,  one  in 
the  form  of  an  animal.  It  has  been  supposed,  too,  to 
be  the  boar  that  the  Indians  thus  honoured;  but,  though 
I  am  unable  to  pio-  what  the  animal  was,  this  solution 
of  the  problem  doe    not  satisfy  me. 

"  The  figures  seem,"  says  Squier,  « to  be  most  preva- 
lent ;  and,  though  preserving  about  the  same  relative 
proportions,  vary  in  size  from  90  to  120  feet.     In 
many  other  places,   as  at  this  point,  they  occur  in 
ranges,  one  after  the  other  at  irregular  intervals.     In 
the  midst  of  this  group  is  the  representation  of  a  human 
figure,  placed  with  its  head  towards  the  west,  and  hav- 
ing its  arms  and  legs  extended.     Its  length  is  126  feet, 
and  it  is  140  feet  from  the  extremity  of  one  arm  to 
that  of  the  other.     The  body  is  thirty  feet  in  breadth, 
the  head  twenty-five  feet  in  diameter,  and  its  elevation 
considerably  greater  than  that  of  most  of  the  others, 
being  not  much  less  than  six  feet.     The  human  figure 
is  not  uncomir-n  among  the  effigies,  and  is  always 
characterized  by  the  extraordinary  and  unnatural  length 
of  its  arms," 

Ten  miles  west  of  Madison,  in  the  same  county  Dade, 
Wisconsin,  are  other  works  of  a  similar  nature :  but 
the  animals  represented  are  evidently  not  the  same, 


.^ll- 


S24 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


as  they  have  long  and  heavy  tails.  One  of  the  two 
eflSgies  has  also  a  pair  of  horna.  The  Indian  wav-trail, 
now  the  military  road  to  Madison,  passes  between  the 

mounds. 

In  other  places,  birds  and  insects  are  represented  on 
the  same  gigantic  scale.  The  utterly  infantine  manner 
in  which  these  works  are  built  up  render  it  impossible 
to  offer  any  conjecture  as  to  what  they  were  really  in- 
tended to  represent,  and  for  what  uses  they  were  de- 
signed, except,  indeed,  that  they  might  have  been 
religious  monuments. 

I  have  been  led  to  enlarge  on  these  curious  remains, 
from  their  being  so  little  known  and  so  interesting,  as 
they  will  be  felt  when  once  brought  under  the  notice 
of  the  public :  I  will  but  briefly  mention  the  sacrificial 
mounds  and  altars  of  the  same  people  in  the  valley. 

"A  simple  heap  of  earth  or  stones,"  says  Sf|uicr, 
"seems  to  have  been  the  first  monument  which  sug- 
gested itself  to  man ;  the  pyramid,  the  arch,  and  the 
obelisk,  are  evidences  of  a  more  advanced  state.  But 
rude  as  are  these  primitive  memorials,  they  have  boon 
but  little  impaired  by  time,  while  other  more  imposing 
structures  have  sunk  into  shapeless  ruins.  When  co- 
vered with  forests,  and  their  surfaces  interlaced  with  the 
roots  of  trees  and  bushes,  or  when  protected  by  turf, 
the  humble  mound  bids  defiance  to  th«  elements  which 
throw  down  the  temple,  and  crumble  the  marble  into 
d''st.  We  therefore  find  them,  little  changed  from 
their  original  proportions,  side  by  side  with  the  ruins 
of  those  proud  edifices  which  mark  the  advanced,  as 
the  former  do  the  primitive,  state  of  the  people  who 
built  them." 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


325 


Indeed,  as  Mr.  Squier  goes  on  to  remark,  these  rude 
mounds  are  found  in  India,  Siberia,  and  Scandinavia ; 
by  the  shores  of  the  Bosphoras  and  the  Mediterranean 
and  in  Britain.  In  America,  these  marks  of  a  primi' 
tive  state  extends  from  the  northern  lakes  through  the 
valley  of  the  Mississippi,  and  even  to  the  soutli  of  the 
continent  of  Mexico,  Peru,  and  Brazil,  to  the  La  Plate 
and  Cape  Horn. 

Description  of  these  relics  of  the  Mississippi  races  is 
almost  unnecessary,  as  they  so  closely  resemble  our 
British  caims  and  barrows,  being  only  on  a  much 
larger  scale. 

I  cannot,  however,  before  closing  this  article,  omit 
to  notice  some  points  connected  with  the  religion  of  the 
semi-civilized  races  in  America,  referring  the  reader  to 
Prescott  for  more  diffused  accounts.  I  stated  at  the 
commencement  of  this  article,  that  the  Mosaic  account 
of  the  Creation  found  a  full  parallel  in  the  accounts  of 
the  same  event  in  the  Mexican  symbolical  papyri;  but 
more  fully  and  strangely  did  they  resemble  the  He- 
brews in  their  institutions.  I  am  far  more  inclined  to 
see  a  parallel,  however,  with  Polynesian  customs  in 
some  of  these,  than  with  Jewish.  Some  salient  points 
of  comcidence  may  be  interesting  to  the  reader. 

The  most  reasonable  course  is  to  follow  the  course 
of  tradition  from  the  creation  downward.     And,  first 
of  the  names  and  attributes  of  the  Creator.  '         ' 

"  Xiuleti,  in  the  Mexican  language,"  says  the  com 
nientator  on  the  Antiquities  of  Mexico,  "signifies  blue 
and  hcnct   was  a  name  which  the  Mexicans  gave  to 
I'caven,  from  which  Xiuleticutli  is  derived,  an  epithet 
signifying  the  God  of  Heaven,  which  they  bestowed 

29 


320 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE  WORLD. 


^i  J'  ' 


upon  Tezeatlipoca  or  TonacateuctU,  who  was  painted 
with  a  crown  as  Lord  of  all,  as  the  interpreter  of  the 
Codex  Tellereano-Remensis  affirms ;  to  whom  they  as- 
signed the  first  and  last  place  in  the  calendar,  emphati- 
cally styling  him  the  God  of  Fire.  Xiuleticutli  may 
bear  the  other  interpretation  of  the  God  of  Ages,  the 
Everlasting  One,  which,  connected  with  the  Mexican 
notion  of  fire  being  the  element  more  peculiarly  sacred 
to  Ilim,  recalls  to  our  recollection  the  ninth  and  tenth 
verses  of  the  seventh  chapter  of  Daniel's  description 
of  the  vision  of  the  Ancient  of  Days,  from  '  before 
whom  issued  a  fiery  stream,  and  whose  throne  was  like 
the  fiery  flame."  ' 

This  Tonacateuctli,  the  supreme  God,  resided  in  the 
garden  of  Tonaquatatitlan.  He  was  the  father  of 
Quetzalcoatl,  and  Avas  surnamed  Ometecutli  (Most 
High).  Quetzalcoatl  was  the  Son  of  God  by  the  virgin 
of  Tula,  Chimelman,  by  His  breath  or  will.  "  His  in- 
carnation," says  Humboldt,  "existed  from  eternity, 
and  that  He  had  been  the  creator  of  both  the  world 
and  man ;  that  he  had  descended  to  reform  the  world 
by  endurance,  and  being  king  of  Tula,  was  crucified  for 
the  sins  of  mankind,  &c.,  as  is  plamly  declared  in  the 
tradition  of  Yucatan,  and  mysteriously  represented  in 
the  Mexican  paintings." 

With  the  tree  of  Scandinavia,  too,  Yggdrasill  (or 
that  of  Eden),  they  were  acquainted,  and  it  seems  to 
have  held  no  mean  place  in  their  mythology.  In 
Chiapa,  we  learn  from  Garcia,  the  name  of  the  Father 
is  Icona ;  of  the  Son,  Vacah  ;  and  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
Es-Ruadh. 

Of  Eve,  whom  they  called  Yex-nextli,  they  seem  to 


ANCIIJNT  CITtES  OF  AMERICA. 


827 


have  had  some  tradition,  but  tlio  apple  of  Genesis  is 
convertc.l  iiere  into  roses  (called  elsewhere  Fruit  of  the 
Tree).     t-!i(.  is  veprcacnted  by  Saha^^un  to  have   had 
twins,  a  Kou  and  d,;;.g!iier,   C:.in  .-.nd  Calmnna;   and 
afterwards  she  a-ain  bore  twins,  AbJ  iwui  hia  dster  ' 
Delborah  ;   she  obtained  the  name  of  serpent-woman 
(Chuacoiiiiat).     The  rebellion  of  the  spirits  against  the 
Aluii>;hty   also   miners  with    a   parallel   in   Anahuaean 
lo<renda  of  the  war  in  Heaven,  and  the  fall  of  Zoutmo- 
quen  and  the  other  rebels.     The  deluge  and  the  ark 
ore  alHO  alluded  to  in  the  Mexican  MSS.     It  was  repre- 
sented as  being  made  of  fir  wood,  under  the  direction 
of  Palceaili,  or  Cipaqiietona,  who  invented  wine ;  Xelua, 
one  of  his  descendants,  aided  in  the  construction  of  a 
liigh  tower,  destroyed  by  Tonacatecutli,  who  confounded 
their  language  at  the  same  period. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  coincidences  which  the  in- 
genuity of  commentators  and  enthusiasm  of  would-be 
discoverers  have  elicited  from  the  Mexican  paintings. 
Uut  on  this  subject  all  speculation  is  unsatisfactory  and 
bewihlcring.     Whether  the  judgment  of  these  ingenious 
men  was  overruled  by  their  imagination,  or  whether  the 
paintings  really  represent  some  episodes  of  the  Mosaical 
history,  it  is  not  for  me  to  pronounce.     I  would  merely 
suggest  to  the  students  of  Mexican  history  a  careful 
examination  of  the  Codex  Mendoza,  the  only  existing 
key  to  the  political  history,  economy,  and  social  life  of 
the  country,  under  the  dynasty  of  the  Aztec  kings. 
Any  attempt  to  unravel  the  other  paintings,  I  would 
enforce,  but  very  modestly,  upon  the  reader  as  being 
utterly  ^absurd  and,  as  I  just  now  said,  bewildering. 
Of  the  Toltecs,  though  they  are  more  ancient,  it  is  more 


I 


828 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


flatisfiictory  to  speak,  and  the  concurrent  evidence  of 
historical,  physical,  zoological,  physiological,  social,  an«; 
architectural  investigations,  points  to  their  race  being 
the  Malayan  or  Polynesian.  To  that  race  arc  the 
Mexicans  and  Peruvians  indebted  for  the  arts  of  poaco, 
and  for  the  amenities  of  life,  which  they  enjoyed. 

Our  limits  have  not  permitted  us  to  notice  the  ancient 
cities  of  Peru.  The  cut  below  is  a  specimen  of  their 
sucrcd  architecture  in  tho  times  of  tho  Incus. 


utaxm  rauvuN 


I   Mi  ,  *t 


=1 


TlIK  ACH0P0U8. 


ATHENS. 


Cm 

Hi  Pi 


0  write  on  this  cherished  scene  of 
art  and  nature,  to  attempt  to  add 
one  iota  to  the  knowledge  accumu- 
lated in  countless  volumes  of  history 
and  criticism,  would  be  a  presump- 
tuous  adventure  in  a  series  of  brief 
sketches.     The  fact  is,  that  upon 
many  other  cities  it  is  difficult  to 
write  a  long  article ;  on  Athens,  it 
is  next  to  impossible  to  pen  a  short 
one.     Surrounded  with  the  works  of  her  greatest  poets, 
orators,  philosophers,  and  historians ;  with  the  originals, 
or  the  copies  of  her  sublimest  works  of  art— met  on 
all  sides,  even  in  oar  owa  public  buildings,  with  the 
nnitation  or  realizntion  cf  those   rules   of  Athenian 
architecture,  which  have  held  an  empire  over  art,  of 
which  nothing  seems  likely  to  dispossess  them ;  with  a 
mass  of  ideas,  in  which  one  art  struggles  with  another 
tr  >)^veak  our  attention  ;  in  short,  with  overwhelming 


882 


GnEAT  emus  OF  THE  WOULD. 


materials  that  force  themselves  upon  our  imagination, 
and  almost  direct  our  pen  to  their  description,  it  is 
more  than  difficult  to  givo  a  slight,  "  darkly,  as  in  a 
glass,  visible,"  sketch  of  the  wondrous  city  of  Pallas. 

"  There  exists  not,"  says  Wordsworth,  "  a  corner 
in  the  civilized  world,  which  is  not,  as  it  were,  hrt  atlic<l 
on  by  the  air  of  Attica.  Its  influence  is  ftlt  in  the 
thoughts,  and  shows  itself  in  the  speech  of  men  ;  ;ind 
it  will  never  cease  to  do  so.  It  is  not  enough  to  say 
that  it  lives  in  the  inspirations  of  the  poet,  in  tlio 
tdoqucnce  of  the  orator,  ami  in  the  speculations  of  the 
philosopher.  IJesidos  this,  it  exhibits  itself  in  visible 
shapes  ;  it  is  the  soul  which  animates  and  informs  the 
most  beautiful  creations  of  art.  The  works  of  the 
architect  and  of  the  sculptor,  in  every  quarter  of  the 
globe,  speak  of  Attica.  Of  Attica,  the  galleries  of 
princes  and  nations  are  full.  Of  Attica,  the  temples 
and  palaces,  and  libraries  and  council-rooms  of  capital 
cities,  give  sensible  witness,,  and  will  do  for  ever. 

"  But  above  all,  it  is  due  to  the  intellectual  results 
produced  by  the  inhabitants  of  this  small  canton  of 
Europe,  that  the  language  in  which  they  spoke  and 
in  which  they  wrote,  became  the  vernacular  tongue  of 
the  whole  Nvorld.  The  genius  of  Athenians  made  their 
speech  universal;  the  treasures  which  they  deposited 
in  it  rendered  its  acquisition  essential  to  all  ,  and  thus 
the  sway,  unlimited  in  extent,  and  invincible  in  power, 
which  was  wielded  over  the  universe  by  the  arms  of 
Rome,  was  exercised  over  Rome  itself  by  the  arts  of 
Athens.  To  Attica,  therefore,  it  is  to  be  attributed 
that,  first,  precisely  at  the  season  when  such  a  channel 
of  general  communication  was  most  needed,  there  existed 


ATHENS. 


838 


a  common  language  in  the  world  ;  and,  secondly,  that 
this  lungiiiige  was  (iicck  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  there 
was,  at  tho  time  of  the  fust  propagation  of  the  Gospel, 
a  tongue  in  which  it  could  be  preached  to  the  whole 
earth,  and  that  Greek,  tho  most  worthy  of  siicli  a 
distinction,  was  tho  language  of  Inspiration — tho  tongue 
of  tho  earliest  preachers  and  writers  of  Christianity. 
Therefore  we  may  regard  Attica,  viewed  in  this  light, 
as  engaged  in  the  same  cause,  ami  leagued  in  a  holy 
confederacy,  with  Palestine;  we  may  consider  the 
philosopliers,  and  orators,  and  poets  of  this  country 
as  preparing  the  way,  by  a  special  dispensation  of 
God's  providence,  for  the  Apostles,  and  Fathers,  and 
Apologists  of  the  Church  of  Christ." 

In  faet,  the  history  of  Athens  is,  in  one  sense,  the 
history  of  all  Greece;  perhaps,  we  might  say,  of  the 
whole  world  during  a  certain  period.  Fraught  with 
political  changes  the  moat  exciting,  and  cxercisinf^  an 
nifluenee  that  imperceptibly  diflTused  itself,  though  not 
always  under  the  same  form,  t'  -  ugjiout  the  civilized 
world,  Athens  is  the  centre  vi  ancient  constitutional 
study.  At  Athens,  history  finds  examples  of  evoiy 
variety  of  legislature;  furnishes  specimens  of  their 
respective  effects  ;  and,  in  ..  word,  teaches  almost  all 
that  every  other  history  can  teach,  whether  it  ro^ar^ls 
tlie  private  or  social  condition  of  man. 

At  the  same  nmo,  amid  this  universality  of  examj-lc, 
wo  must  be  prepared  to  find  mucli  that  is  revolting 
to  the  best  feelings  of  reason  or  humanity.  Like  all 
other  states,  Athens  possessed  the  same  corroding 
influences  which  suppurated  her  vital  energies,  imd 
extinguished  tho  glorious  breath  of  that  love  of  freedom 


834 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


•which  a  Byron  could  sigh  for,  but  not  call  back  into 
the  lovely  corpse  of  dead,  degraded  Hellas.  Corruption 
at  elections,  love  of  place,  and  scandalous,  openly- 
professed,  and  avowedly-tolerated  immorality,  wore 
the  base  successors  to  the  honest  independence  of  the 
olden  time,  the  healthy  limited  monarchy,  or  steadfast 
and  impartial  democracy,  and  the  grave  hardihood  of 
the  sons  of  Codrus.  Add  to  this,  the  degeneracy  in 
regard  to  religious  feeling,  and  the  consequent  oblivion 
of  the  rights  of  men.  "  It  is  the  glory,"  says  Heeren, 
"  of  the  Greeks,  that  they  honoured  the  nobler  feelings 
of  humanity,  where  other  nations  were  unmindful  of 
them.  They  flourished  so  long  as  tliey  possessed  self- 
government  enough  to  do  this ;  they  fell  when  sacred 
things  ceased  to  be  sacred." 

In  contemplating  the  early  history  of  Attica,  we  are 
as  much  beset  by  difficulties,  as  in  any  of  the  other 
early  states  and  cities  of  the  human  race.  Mythology 
is  at  work,  and  in  fantastical  stories  about  Poseidon 
(Neptune),  Athdnd  (Minerva),  Erichthonins,  and  a 
variety  of  other  heroes  and  heroines,  locally  and 
religiously  connected  with  this  soil,  we  are  struck 
with  the  incongruities,  whilst  we  are  delighted  by  the 
charms,  of  early  Grecian  history.  An  endless  field 
of  poetical  narrati:e  unfolds  itself  in  the  writings  of 
the  Athenian  stage  ;  Scholiasts  of  a  later  date,  and 
compilers  of  popular  myths,  astound  us  by  the  rich 
diversity  of  their  stories  of  early  Athens ;  and  it  is 
but  occasionally  that  one  distinctly-marked  feature 
of  likelihood  stands  out  from  the  mass  of  pretty 
uncertainties  and  fictitious  plausibilities,  and  literally 
surprises  us  by  its  resemblance  to  truth. 


ATHENS. 


335 


When   we   look  at  the  hero-like,  yet  symmetrical 
proportions  of  the  Theseus  in  the  Elgin  collections, 
we   feel   some  regret  at  finding  that  the   original   is 
as  doubtful  a  character  in  real  history,  as  his  marble 
neighbour  the  Ilissus,  the  old  river-god— the  god  of 
that  stream,  along  the  banks  of  which,  amid  the  shades 
of  the  Academy,  Socrates  and  Plato  strolled  in  search 
of  truth.     Yet  the  legend  of  Theseus  has  a  vitality 
that   distinguishes   him   from   the   merely  symbolical 
benefactors  of  the  human  race.    Like  another  Hercules 
or  Amadis  de  Gaul,  his  exploits  have  been  made  the 
subject  of  almost  boundless  exaggeration,  and   they 
have  boon  pointed  out  as  worthy  objects  of  imitation 
by  those  who  wore  with  reason  dissatisfied  with  the 
languid  inertness  of  their  own  times.     But  although 
we  cannot  fix  the  stand;,  .-d  of  our  belief  in  its  fitting 
and  just  proportion,  we  must  not  withdraw  credit  from 
the  report  which  represents  Theseus  as  the  king  under 
whose  banner  the   scattered   towns  of  Attica  ranged 
themselves,   and   round   whoso   capital   city,   Athens, 
they  were  persuaded   to  consolidate   their  resources 
for  purposes  of  common  interest  and  defence. 

But,  with  our  narrow  limits,  we  must  rather  seek 
to  point  out  the  gradual  progress  of  Athens  to  the 
greatness  we  shall  briefly  describe,  than  tn  dwell  upon 
the  manifold  difficulties  and  obscurities  of  her  early 
history. 

The  Trojan  war,  that  diverting  source  of  taivalric 
wonders,  which  has  furnished  materials  for,  we  might 
ahnost  say,  the  whole  cycle  of  Greek  epic  poetry, 
produced  strange  influences  on  the  condition  and 
prospects  of  the  Greeks. 


836 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


Involved  in  great  doubt  is  the  story  of  king  Codnis. 
He  is  said  to  have  devoted  himself  for  the  good  of 
Athens  in  a  ^var  ivith  the  Dorians,  who  had  invaded 
the  northern  peninsula,  but  found  themselves  repulsed 
when  they  attem'^ted  to  invade  the  frontiers  of  Athens. 
One  tradition  asserts,  that,  after  his  reign,  the  kmgly 
power  ceased,  and  that  while  an  aristocratic  oligarchy 
was  substituted  ;  the  throne  of  the  dead  hero  was  left 
vacant,  in  testimony  to  his  patriotism. 

But,  as  was  destined  hereafter  to  take  place  in  the 
rising  commonwealth  of  Rome,  the  higher  class  of  the 
commons  kept   increasing  in  wealth,  and  that  wealth 
was   fostered   by  the    success   of  the  colonics   whuh 
continually   went   forth   from   the   mother-city.     But 
whilst  a  dislike  to  the  aristocracy  was  augmented  on 
their  part  by  their  increased  capabilities  of  displaying 
it  it  was  widely  different  with  the  poorer  classes,  who 
became  oppressed  with  debt,  and  whose  free  rights  were 
consequently  and  proportionately  crippled.     Infamy, 
or   in  a  more  restricted  sense,  disfranchisement,  was 
the  penalty  with  which  debt,  often  the  result  of  mis- 
fortune, was  visited;  and  the  loss  of  the  privileges  of 
a  free  agent  led  in  some  instances  to  cruelties  that 
loudly   called    for   an    amelioration    of    the   existing 

system.  .  n     ,       i   • 

The  laws  of  Draco  are  known  chiefly  by  their 
proverbial  severity;  but,  while  they  may  have  served 
to  repress  some  of  the  open  outrages,  to  which  the 
stru-Tgles  between  the  wealthier  commons  and  the 
aristocracy  would  give  rise,  they  were  of  little  avail 
in  sheltering  the  poor  and  uninfluential  from  the 
aggressions  and  neglect  of  their  superiors.     Indeed, 


ATHENS. 


887 


the  laws  of  Draco  appear  to  have  gone  upon  a  broad 
principle  of  severity,  little  adapted  to  that  self-reforming 
progress  which  is  the  surest  evidence  of  social  improve- 
ment. We  scarcely  know  to  what  extent  they  were 
carried  out;  but  a  limited  experience  in  our  own  times 
13  suflScient  to  show  the  inefficiency  of  capital  punish- 
ments m  repressing  the  amount  of  crime  and  misde- 
meanor. 

Amid  such  an  imperfect  code  of  laws,  and  so  corrupt 
a  state  of  society,  Solon  appeared  as  the  grand  reformer 
of  abuses,  legal  and  social.  Wachsmuth,  a  first-rate 
antiquarian,  has  given  so  excellent  an  account  of  the 
leading  work  of  reformation  under  this  great,  and,  one 
rojoices  to  *  I.  historical  personage,  that  we  present 
It  to  our  Tvu  o  .  without  hesitation  :— 

"Equity  and  moderation  are  described  by  the  ancients 
as  the  characteristics  of  his  mind ;  he  determined  to 
abolish  the  privileges  of  particular  classes,  and  the 
arbitrary  power  of  officers,   and   to   render  all  the 
participation  as  in  civil  and  political  freedom  equal  in 
the  eye  of  the  law,  at  the  same  time  ensuring  to  every 
one  the  integrity  of  those  rights  to  which  his  real  merits 
entitled  him;   on  the  other  hand,  he  was   far  from 
contemplating  a  total  subversion  of  existing  regulations ; 
for  that  reason,  he  left  many  institutions,  for  example,' 
Draco's  laws  on  murder,  in  full  force,  or  most  wisely 
suffered  them  to  exist   in  form,  whilst  the  old  and 
decayed  substance  was  carefully  extracted  and  replaced 
by  sound  materials.     Whatever  was  excellent  in  pre- 
scription was  incorporated  with  the  new  laws,   and 
thereby  stamped  afresh;  but  prescription  as  such,  with 
the  3xception  of  some  unwritten  religious  ordinances 


838 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


of  the  ■^'amolpids,  was  deprived  of  force.  The  law  was 
destined  to  be  the  sole  centre  whence  every  member 
of  the  political  community  was  to  derive  a  fixed  rule 
of  conduct,  secured  against  the  vicissitudes  of  arbitrary 
power  by  the  clear  and  explicit  character  of  its  precepts. 
"  The  chief  power  was  vested  in  the  collective  people ; 
but,  in  order  that  it  might  be  exercised  with  advantage, 
it  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  endowed  with 
common  rights  of  citizenship.  Solon  effected  this  by 
raising  the  lower  class  from  its  degradation,  and  by 
rendering  the  liberty  of  both  dependent  upon  the  law. 
The  essential  properties  of  citizenship  consisted  in  the 
share  possessed  by  every  citizen  in  the  legislature ;  the 
election  of  magistrates,  as  well  as  the  scrutiny  of  their 
conduct,  and  the  execution  of  the  laws  by  the  courts 
of  justice.  This  change  was  brought  about  by  two 
ordinances,  which  must  not  be  regarded  as  mere 
remedies  for  the  abuses  of  that  period,  but  as  the 
permanent  basis  of  free  and  legal  citizenship.  The 
one  was  the  Seisachtheia  ;  this  was  enacted  by  Solon 
to  afford  relief  to  oppressed  debtors,  by  reducing  their 
debts  in  amount,  and  by  raising  the  value  of  money  in 
the  payment  of  interest  and  principal ;  at  the  same 
time  he  abrogated  the  former  rigorous  law  of  debt  by 
which  the  freeman  might  be  reduced  to  servitude,  and 
thus  secured  to  him  the  unmolested  possession  of  his 
legal  rights.  Moreover,  it  may  be  confidently  asserted, 
that  the  Seisachtheia  was  accompanied  by  the  conversion 
of  those  estates,  which  had  hitherto  been  held  of  the 
nobility,  by  the  payment  of  a  fixed  rent,  into  indepen- 
dent freehold  property ;  thus  domiciUation,  and  the 
possession  of  freehold  property,  were  the  mainsprings 


ATHENS. 


889 


of  Solon's  citizenship.     A  second  ordinance  enjoined 
that  their  full  and  entire  right  should  be  restored  to 
all  citizens  who  had  incurred  Atimia,*  except  to  absolute 
criminals.     This  was  not  only  destined  to  heal  the 
wounds  which  had  been  caused  by  the  previous  dissen- 
sions, but  as  till  that  time  the  law  of  debt  had  been 
able  to  reduce  citizens  to  Atiraia,  and  the  majority  of 
the  Atimoi  pointed  out  by  Solon  were  slaves  for  debt, 
that  declaration   stood  in   close   connection  with  the 
Seisachtheia,  and  had  the  efiect  of  a  proclamation  from 
the  State  of  its  intention  to  guarantee  the  validity  of 
the  new  citizenship.     Hence,  the  sacred  right  would 
no  longer  be  forfeited  through  the  operation  of  private 
laws,  but  through  the  commission  of  such  oflences  only 
as  immediately  regarded  the  public  ;  on  the  other  side, 
indeed,  upon  the  principle  of  full  right  for  full  services,' 
the  non-performance  of  a  public  duty  might  be  followed 
by  Atimia,  or  by  the  restriction  or  privation  of  the  full 
rights  of  citizenship,  and  it  frequently  happened,  even 
without  the  formality  of  a  judicial  sentence,  that  the 
neglect  of  an  obligation  to  the  State  involved  heavier 
penalties  than  a  crime  itself. 

Such  was  the  system  of  policy  which  made  men 
respect  the  civil  institutions  of  their  country  by  teach- 
ing them  self-consideration.  Where  every  man  felt 
himself  a  part  of  the  institutions  he  was  bound  to  up- 
hold, his  duty  as  a  citizen  became  a  natural  act  of  self- 
importance,  not  the  compulsory  testimony  of  obedience; 
where  citizenship  was  held  out  as  the  motive,  not  for 
aggrandizing  a  family  by  the  purchase  of  influence, 
but  for  contributing  to  maintaining  a  power  in  the  pre- 

*  i,  e.  Disfranchisement,  infamy. 


840 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


Bervation  of  which  each  father  of  a  family  felt  himself 
interested,  the  best  principles  of  democracy  might  be 
said  to  be  in  full  force.  It  was  not  by  an  unbridled 
onslaught  on  the  property  and  privileges  of  the  class 
whose  ancestral  renown  could  scarcely  be  forgotten 
even  in  a  democracy ;  it  was  not  by  indiscriminately 
giving  away  both  means  and  privileges  to  those  who 
had  nothing ;  but  it  was  by  making  each  class  of  suffi- 
cient consequence  to  be  respectable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
other ;  and  by  rendering  respectability  an  attribute  of 
character  and  zeal,  not  debasing  it  to  a  slang  word  for 
property  and  county  influence,  that  Solon  sought  to 
re-model  Athens. 

Framed  with  an  equal  regard  to  the  well-being  of 
all,  were  the  new  laws  repeating  the  naturalization  of 
aliens,  the  better  treatment  of  the  Metoeci,  and  even 
an  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  slaves.  Our 
limits  do  not  permit  us  to  give  a  full  account  of  the 
various  reforms  worked  in  these  respects,  but  the  fol- 
lowing remarks,  from  the  pen  of  the  author  above 
quoted,  will  give  an  excellent  idea  of  the  change  in  the 
share  of  power  possessed  by  each  citizen : — 

"  With  reference  to  a  share  in  the  supreme  power, 
the  citizenship  must  first  be  considered  in  its  largest 
extent,  as  a  common  possession,  of  which  the  lowest 
persons  were  not  deprived,  and  which  varied  in  degree 
according  to  age;  and  secondly,  in  connection  with 
those  rights  which  proceeded  from  a  difierence  of  valua- 
tion. Every  citizen  had  a  right  to  speak  in  the  popular 
assembly,  and  to  judge,  upon  oath,  in  the  courts ;  but 
the  former  of  these  rights  might  be  exercised  at  an 
earlier  age  than  the  latter.     Upon  attaining  the  age 


ATHENS. 


843 


»f  puberty,  th«  sons  of  citizens  entered  public  life  under 
vhe  name  of  Ephebi.  The  state  gave  them  two  years 
or  the  full  development  of  their  youthful  strength,  and 
■he  practice  of  the  foot  races  and  other  exercises  which 
night  ensure  its  efficient  dedication  to  the  most  impor- 
tant duty  of  a  citizen,  viz.  the  service  of  arms.  Upon 
the  expiration  of  the  second,  and,  according  to  the 
most  authentic  accounts,  in  their  eighteenth  year,  they 
received  the  shield  and  spear  in  the  popular  assembly, 
complete  armour  being  given  to  the  sons  of  those  who 
had  fallen  in  battle,  and  in  the  temple  of  Agraulos 
took  the  oath  of  young  citizens,  the  chief  obligation  of 
which  concerned  the  defence  of  their  country;  and 
then  for  the  space  of  one  or  two  years  performed  mili- 
tary service  in  the  Attic  border  fortresses,  under  the 
name  of  Peripoli.  The  ceremony  of  arming  them  was 
followed  by  enrolment  in  the  book  which  contained  the 
names  of  those  who  had  attained  majority ;  this  empow- 
ered the  young  citizen  to  manage  his  fortune,  preside  over 
a  household,  enter  the  popular  assembly,  and  speak. 
When  he  asserts  the  last  right,  namely,  the  Isegoria, 
Parrhesia,  he  was  denominated  Rhetor,  and  this  ap- 
pellation denoted  the  difference  between  him  and  the 
silent  members  of  the  assembly,  the  Idiotes  ;*  but  the 
speakers  were  not  singled  out  from  the  rest  of  the 
members  in  the  manner  of  a  corporation,  or  particular 
order,  or  the  character  of  regular  functionaries.  What 
was  called  the  Dokimasiaf  of  the  Rhetors  was  not  a 
scrutiny  of  office,  but  a  measure  which  was  adopted  in 
case  a  citizen,  who  had  forfeited  the  right  of  speaking 


*  •'.  e.  private  persons. 


t  Investigation,  icrutiny. 


844 


OREAT  CITIES  OF  TII13  WORLD. 


in  consequence  of  Atimia,  presumed  to  exercise  it,  and 
it  required  to  be  preceded  by  a  special  motion  to  that 
effect.  That  this  Dokimasia  is,  in  the  ancient  authors,  so 
frequflntly  cluMHcd  with  that  of  the  Archons  and  crategi, 
must  be  explained  from  the  growing  political  import- 
ance of  oratory,  which  imparted  a  sort  of  official  cha- 
racter, like  that  of  legally-elected  military  commanders, 
and  civil  functionaries,  to  the  uelf-constituted  dema- 
gogues of  the  day. 

"Moreover,  after  oratory  begari  to  le  studied  syste- 
matically, the  word  Rhetor  became  confined  to  the 
class  of  professed  sophists,  Autoschediasts  becoming 
comparatively  rare,  and  a  marked  line  being  drawn 
between  them  and  the  remaining  mass.  Finally,  the 
order  of  speaking  depended  upon  age ;  those  who  were 
more  than  fifty  years  old  being  entitled  to  speak  first. 
Upon  attaining  his  thirtieth  year,  the  citizen  might 
assort  his  superior  rights ;  he  was  qualified  for  a  mem- 
ber of  the  sworn  tribunal,  entitled  the  Ileliaea.  For 
this  purpose  it  was  requisite  to  take  a  new  oath  in  the 
open  place  called  Ardettus,  which  chiefly  related  to 
civil  duties  generally ;  but  its  conclusion  prescribed 
judicial  obligations.  This  must  be  distinguished  from 
the  short  oath  which  it  was  necessary  to  take  before  a 
court  of  any  description  could  be  held.  The  word 
Iloliast,  does  not  merely  signify  a  judge,  but  the  citizen 
who  has  fully  attained  maturity,  and  whose  superior 
right  is  proclaimed  in  the  performance  of  juridical  func- 
tions, as  the  most  important  public  agency  of  which  he 
is  capable,  as  the  rights  of  younger  citizens  are  implied 
by  the  act  of  public  speaking.     The  judges  of  the 


ATlIKNS. 


846 


courts  of  the  Dinctctje-  and  Eph«.t(«,t  which  existed 
without  the  circle  of  the  ordinary  tribunal,  were  re- 
quired  to  be  still  older  men  than  the  Heliasts,  viz. 
fatty  or  sixty  years  of  ago. 

"  Solon  appointed  gradations  in  the  rights  of  citizen- 
ship,  according  to  the  conditions  of  a  census  in  reference 
to  the  ofiices  of  State,  ^vhich,  akhougli  not  in  them.selvcs 
modihcat.ons   of  the   highest  legislative  and  judicial 
power,  nevertheless  exercised  a  most  important  inlluence 
upon  It  us  advising  and  directing  authorities.     Upon 
the  princ.plc  of  a  conditional  equality  of  rights,  which 
assigns  to  every  one  as  nniol.  as  lie  deserves,  and  which 
13  highly  characteristic  of  Solon's  policy  in  general   ho 
instituted  four  classes  according  to  a  valuation;  these 
were    the    Pentacosiomedimini,t    the    Hippeis,§     the 
Ze"g.t=^,||  and  the  Thete..!     The  valuation,  however, 
only  afi-eoted  that  portion  of  capital  from  which  contri- 
In't.ons  to  the  State  bu;  la.ns  were   r(.,uircd,  conse- 
quently, according  to  Bockh,  a  taxable  capital. 

"  This  counteracts  the  unworthy  notion  that  this 
regulation  was  intended  to  raise  wealth  itself  in  the 
scale  of  importance,  and  serves  to  exhibit  its  real  object 
which  was  to  impose  that  burthen  which  unpaid  offices 
of  State  might  prove  to  needy  persons,  on  such  as 
could  administer  them  without  prejudice  to  their  domestic 
relations,  so  that  a  person  who  was  declared  eligible 

*  i".  «.  Arbitrators. 
t  Commissioners. 

?  Knights,  or  those  capable  of  keeping  horges. 

I'l  A  word  of  uncertaiu  origin. 

%  The  lowest  (or  »rr«//^)  rla.«8,  inenpnWe  ff  ofto«. 


L-.-: 


MHll 

M 

^■|: 

B 

^^■■' 

Hll: 

I^HHIHH' 

W 

r= 


846 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


could  only  be  dispensed  from  it  by  means  of  an  oath, 
and  thus  to  guard  the  state  .against  the  effect  of  that 
pernicious  cupidity  which  is  so  frequently  combined 
with  indigence  ;  it  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  means  to 
reward  the  citizen,  who  was  obliged  to  satisfy  the 
higher  claims  of  tho  state,  by  the  enjoyment  of 
corresponding  rights.  The  Thctes,  the  last  of  these 
classes,  Avcre  not  regularly  summoned  to  perform 
military  service,  but  only  exercised  the  civic  right  as 
members  of  the  assembly  and  the  law  courts ;  the  second 
and  third,  from  which  the  cavalry  were  chosen,  likewise 
acted  as  functionaries,  and  when  irreproachable  in  oihcr 
respects,  and  according  to  the  conditions  of  the  census, 
sat  in  the  council  of  the  four  hundred  ;  wlnlst  the  highest 
class  exclusively  supplied  the  superior  offices — such  as 
the  arclionship,  and  through  this  the  council  of  the 
Areopagus." 

But  the  reform  worked  by  Solon  built  too  much  upon 
the  better  feelings  of  mankind,  to  remain  undisturbed  ; 
"evil  passions,"  as  Wachsmuth  pithily  remarks,  "could 
not  be  subdued  by  ideas;"  and  disputes  began  to  renew 
the  ancient  diflerenccs  between  the  different  classes  ; 
and  the  lower  order,  ill  satisfied  Avith  the  legal  rights 
and  privileges  they  had  obtained,  and  readily  alive  to 
the  deadly  and  perverting  influence  of  bribery,  fell  an 
easy  prey  to  the  plausible  impositions  of  Pisistratus, 
who,  although  repeatedly  expelled,  had  built  his  hopes 
of  success  too  surely  on  the  stupidity  of  mankind  to  fail 
of  ultimate  success.  Nor  can  Pisistratus  be  regarded 
as  a  mere  tyrant,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word. 
Desirous  of  supporting  the  institutions  of  Solon,  himself 
submissive  to  the  laws  of  the  country,  the  patron  of  art 


frBi 


ATHENS. 


849 


and  letters,  he  merely  Boizod  the  opportunity  that 
Athenian  weakness  had  furniahod,  but  did  not  abuse  it. 

Nevertheless,  the  Athenians  had  done  wrong.  They 
had  lost  their  noble  horror  of  absolute  power — a  power 
which  was  ill  adapted  to  their  social  character  or 
position.  However,  upon  the  expulsion  of  the  sons  of 
Pisistratus,  forty-one  years  after  the  commencement 
of  the  tyranny,  factions  broke  out  anew,  and  a  fresh 
reformer  appeared  in  the  person  of  Clisthenes  the 
Alcmaenoid,  about  508  b.  c.  T',e  lauA  *  feature  of  the 
new  system  thus  introduced  Cf'  isifted  ir  the  formation 
of  ten  new  tribes  in  lieu  of  th  four  ncient  ones. 
Aristotle  considers  this  arrang  >:* -"nt  hs  essentially 
democratic,  because  the  dissolutio..  of  ancient  connec- 
tions, and  the  greater  mixture  of  the  citizens,  are 
calculated  to  promote  the  introduction  of  democracy. 
"It  is  not,"  therefore,  "so  much  to  the  increase  in 
the  number  of  the  tribes,  as  to  the  abolition  of  institu- 
tions which  were  connected  with  the  ancient  ones,  but 
which  impeded  the  progress  of  democracy,  that  we 
should  direct  our  attention  as  to  the  most  prominent 
feature  in  the  changes  of  Clisthenes." 

And  now  Athens  was  fairly  on  the  road  to  the  glory 
in  which  we  shall  shortly  describe  her.  Wo  have 
already  alluded  to  the  spirited  conduct  of  the  Athenians, 
in  repressing  the  forces  of  the  Persians  in  their  attempt 
to  enslave  Greece.  "  The  Athenians  were  left  almost 
alone  to  repel  the  first  invasion  of  Darius  Hystaspis ; 
but  the  glory  won  at  Marathon  was  not  sufficient  to 
create   a   general   enthusiasm,,  when   greater   danger 

threatened  them  from  the  'avasion  of  Xerxes 

So  true  is  the  remark  of  Herodotus,  that,  however  ill 


S48 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


it  might  be  taken  by  others,  he  was  compelled  to  declare 
that  Greece  was  indebted  for  its  freedom  to  Athens. 
Athens,  with  Themistocles  for  its  leader,  gave  life  and 
courage  to  the  other  states ;  yielded,  Avhere  it  was  its 
duty  to  yield ;  and  always  relied  on  its  own  strength, 
while  it  seemed  to  expect  safety  from  all.  Her  hopes 
were  not  disappointed  in  the  result;  the  battle  of 
Salamis  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  spirit  of  the  Greeks ; 
and  when,  in  the  following  year,  the  battle  of  Platisa 
decided  the  contest,  the  greater  part  of  Greece  was 
assembled  on  the  field  of  battle." 

But  Athens,  the  saviour  of  Greece,  was  yet  destined 
to  become  a  step-mother  to  those  whom  she  had  fostered 
through  dangers  and  difficulties  which  her  almost 
romantic  heroism  had  so  successfully  overcome.  The 
influence  acquired  from  the  renown  gained  by  her 
exertions  during  the  Persian  war,  was  turned  into  a 
means  of  aggression  ;  and  the  consciousness  of  power 
tempted  her  to  acts  of  despotism.  The  Pelaponnesian 
vrar  (431  b.  c.)  aroused  the  whole  of  the  Dorinn  and 
wffiolian  states  against  her;  and  although,  despite  the 
horrors  of  a  terrific  pestilence,  and  the  revolt  of  ha 
Ionian  subjects,  the  naval  skill  of  her  seamen,  and  the 
valiant  enterprise  of  her  commander,  proved  a  matcli 
for  so  alarming  a  confederacy,  still,  the  fairest  d:ij3 
of  Athens  were  gone :  she  had  abused  her  miglity 
resources,  and  her  power  t  as  rapidly  departing  from 
her. 

Sparta  and  Thebes  made  as  ill  use  of  the  inffuence 
they  in  turn  acquired  at  a  subsequent  period ;  and, 
with  Athens,  fell  a  prey  to  the  crafty  and  calculating 
schemes  of  Philip  of  Macedon.    In  tain  did  a  Demos- 


ATHENS.  849 

thenes  invoke  their  attention ;  fruitlessly  did  he  strive 
to  rally  to  the  field  the  listless  flock  who  '•  sat  talking 
and  asking  questions"  in  the  forum.  The  Athenians 
were  fast  degenerating  into  an  almost  Albanian  indo- 
lence, a  state  from  which  she  never  recovered.  <'  With 
the  loss  of  civil  liberty,  Athens  lost  her  genius,  her 
manly  mind,  and  whatever  remained  of  her  virtue  . 
she  long  continued  to  produce  talents,  which  were  too 
often  made  tools  of  iniquity,  panders  to  power,  and 
petty  artificers  of  false  philosophy." 

Before  mentioning  a  few  of  the  long  list  of  -reat 
men  who  have  adorned  the  name  of  Athens  throughout 
the  annals  of  history,  we  will  give  as  complete  a  sketch 
of  the  city  of  Athens  in  her  greatness  and  her  downfall, 
as  our  limits  will  allow.  We  will  follow  Wordsworth 
as  a  guide  : — 

"In  order  to  obtain  a  distinct  notion  of  the  natural 
characteristics  of  the  spot  to  which  we  refer,  let  us  con- 
si'.ler  it,  in  the  first  place,  as  abstracted  from  artificial 
modifications:— lot  us  imagine  ourselves  as  existing  in 
tiie  days   of   Cecrops,   and  looking   upon   the  site   of 
Athens.     In  a  wide  plain,  which  is  enclosed  by  moun- 
tains, except  on  the  south,  where  it  is  bounded  by  the 
iioa,  rises  a  flat  oblong  rock,  lying  from  east  to  west, 
about  fifty  yards  high,  rather  more  than  IGO  broad  and 
3U0  in  length.     It  is  inaccessible  on  all  sides  but  the 
^■cst,   on  which   it  is   approached   by  a  steep   slope. 
This  is  the  future  Acropolis,  or  Citadel  of  Athens.     We 
place  ourselves  upon  the  eminence,  and  cast  our  ej^es 
about  u;s.     Immediatoly  on  the  west  is  a  second  hill, 
of  inegular  form,  lower  than  that  on  which  we  stand, 
and  opposite  to  it.     This  is  the  Areopagus.     Beneath 


350 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


IBB  FMZ. 


it,  on  the  south-west,  -is  a  valley,  neither  deep  nor  nai 
row,  open  both  at  the  north-west  and  south-east.  Here 
was  the  Agora,  or  public  place  of  Athens.  Above  it, 
to  the  south-west,  rises  another  hill,  formed,  like  the 
two  others  already  mentioned,  of  hard  and  rugged  lime- 
stone, clothed  here  and  there  with  a  scanty  covering 
of  herbage.  On  this  hill  the  popular  assemblies  of  the 
future  citizens  of  Athens  will  be  held.  It  will  be 
called  the  Pnyx.  To  the  south  of  it  is  a  fourth  hill  of 
simihir  kind,  known  in  after  ages  as  the  Museum. 
Thus  a  group  of  four  hills  is  presented  to  our  view, 
which  nearly  enclose  the  space  wherein  the  Athenian 
Agora  existed,  as  the  Forum  of  Rome  lay  between  the 
hills  of  the  Capital  and  the  Palatine. 

"Beyond  the  plain,  to  the  south-west,  the  sea  is 
visible,  distant  about  four  miles  from  this  central  rock. 
On  the  coast  are  three  bays, — the  future  harbours  of 
Athens, — the  Phalerura,  Munychia,  and  Piiseus;  the 


ATHENS. 


853 


first  being  the  nearest  to  us,  the  last  the  most  distant 
from  our  present  position.     Toward  the  coast,  and  in 
the  direction  of  these  ports,  run  two  small  streams, 
both  coming  from  the  north-east ;  the  one  on  the  south 
side  of  113  passing  us  at  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  the 
other  on  the  north,  at  the  distance  of  two :  they  do  not 
reach  the  shore,  but  are  lost  in  the  intermediate  plain. 
The  former  is  the  llissus,  the  latter  the  Cephisus.     To 
the  north  of  the  former,  and  at  a  mile  distance  to  the 
north-east  of  the  Acropolis,  is  a  rocky  conical  hill,  of 
considerable  height,  and  one  of  the  most  striking  fea- 
tures  of  the  scenery  of  Athens.     This  is  Mount  Lyca- 
bettus.     Regarding,  then,  the  hill  of  the  Acropolis  as 
the  centre  of  the  future  city  of  Athens,  we  have,  as  its 
natural  fi(  ntiers  to  the  north  and  south,  two  rivers, 
while  on  the  east  and  west  it  is  bounded  by  hills ;  its 
limit  on  the  east  being  the  mountain  of  Lycabettus, 
and  on  the  west  the  lower  range,  which  consists  of  the 
Pnyx  and  the  Museum.     Such  is  a  brief  sketch  of  the 
physical   features  which   distinguish   the   site   of  the 
Athenian  city. 

"  We  now  quit  the  period  of  remote  antiquity,  when 
the  soil  of  the  future  Athens  was  either  untenanted  or 
occupied  only  by  a  few  rude  and  irregular  buildings, 
and  pass  at  once  to  the  time  when  it  had  attained  that 
splendour  which  made  it,  in  literature  and  art,  the 
metropolitan  city  of  the  world.  A  more  striking  con- 
trast than  that  which  is  presented  by  the  appearance 
of  the  same  spot  at  these  two  different  epochs,  cannot 
well  be  imagined. 

"No   longer,   therefore,   as   contemporaries  of  the 
ancient  kings  of  Attica,  but  existing,  in  imagination,  in 


i'mm 


554 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


the  age  of  Pericles  an  I  of  hia  immediate  successoi  ;,  f*' 
now  contemplate  this  city  as  it  then  exibited  itself  to 
the  iigc.  Firi:t,  we  direct  our  attention  to  the  centra! 
rock  of  the  Acropolis.  And  let  us  here  suppose  our- 
selves as  joining  at  this  period  that  aplendid  procession 
of  minstrels,  priests,  and  victims,  of  iwrsemen  and  of 
chariots,  which  ascended  to  that  place  at  the  quin- 
quennial solemnity  of  the  Great  Pariutherttea.  Atop 
above  the  heads  <;f  the  trains,  the  sacred  Peploe,  raised 
and  stretched  like  a  sail  upon  the  mast,  waves  in  the 
air:  ii  h  va'-iogntcd  with  an  embroidered  tissue  of  bat- 
tles, of  giaal  1;  :ind  of  Gods :  it  will  be  carried  to  the 
temple  of  tl.<'  Minerva  Polias  in  the  Citadel  whose 
statue  it  ii  iutended  to  adorn.  In  the  bright  season 
of  summerj  on  the  28th  day  of  the  Athenian  month 
Hecatomb;j?on,  let  us  mount  with  this  processioi!  '.o  the 
western  slope  of  the  Acropolis.  Toward  the  terniina- 
tion  of  its  coui'se,  we  are  brought  in  face  of  a  colossal 
fabric  of  white  marble,  which  crowns  the  brow  of  the 
steep,  and  stretches  itself  from  north  to  south  across  the 
whole  western  front  of  the  Citadel,  which  is  about  170 
feet  in  breadth. 

"  The  centre  of  this  fabric  consists  of  a  portico  60 
feet  broad,  and  formed  of  six  fluted  colums  of  the  Doric 
order,  raised  upon  four  steps,  and  intersected  by  a  road 
passing  through  the  midst  of  the  columns,  which  are 
thirty  feet  in  height,  and  support  a  noble  pediment. 
From  this  portico,  two  wings  project  about  thirty  feet 
to  the  west,  each  having  three  columns  on  the  side 
nearest  the  portico  ..u  the  centre. 

*'  The  architectural  tnouldings  of  the  fabric  glitter  in 
the  sun  with  brilliant  tints  of  red  and  blue  :  in  the  cen- 


ATHENS. 


855 


tre,  the  coffers  of  ita  soffits  are  spangled  with  stars,  and 
the  antoe  of  the  wings  are  fringed  with  an  azure  em- 
broidery of  ivy  leaf. 

"  We  pass  along  the  avenue  lying  between  the  two 
central  columns  of  the  portico,  and  through  a  corridor 
leading  from  it,  and  formed  by  three  Ionic  columns  on 
each  hand,  and  are  brought  in  front  of  five  doors  of 
bronze ;  the  centre  one,  which  is  the  loftiest  and  broadest, 
being  immediately  before  us. 

"  This  structure  which  wo  are  describing  is  the  Pro- 
pyloea  or  vestibule  of  the  Athenian  citadel.  It  is  built 
of  Pentclic  marble.  In  the  year  437  B.  c,  it  was  com- 
menced, and  was  completed  by  the  architect  Mnesicles 
in  five  years  from  that  time.  Its  termination,  there- 
fore, coincides  very  nearly  with  the  commencement  of 
the  Peloponnesian  war. 

"After  a  short  pause,  in  order  to  contemplate  the 
objects  around  us,  to  explore  the  gallery,  adorned  with 
the  painting  of  Polygnotus,  in  the  left  wing  of  the 
Propyloea,  and  to  visit  the  temple  of  Victory  on  the 
right,  which  possesses  four  Ionic  columns  on  its  western, 
and  four  at  its  eastern  end,  thus  being  approached  by 
two  facades,  and  whose  frieze  is  sculptured  with  figures 
of  Persians  and  of  Greeks  fighting  on  the  plain  of  the 
Marathon,  we  return  to  the  marble  corridor  of  the 
Propylaja. 

"  We  will  now  imagine  that  the  great  bronze  doors 
of  which  we  have  spoken  as  standing  at  the  termination 
of  this  gallery  are  thrown  back  upon  their  hinges,  to 
admit  the  riders  and  charioteers,  and  all  that  long  and 
magnificent  array  of  the  Panathenaic  procession,  which 
stretches  back  from  this  spot  to  the  area  of  the  Agora 


856 


QREAT   CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


at  the  western  foot  of  tho  Citadel.  Wc  behold  through 
this  vista  the  interior  of  tho  Athenian  Acropolia.  We 
pass  under  the  gateway  before  us,  and  enter  its  pre- 
cincts, surrounded  on  all  sides  by  massive  walls ;  we 
tread  the  soil  on  which  tho  greatest  men  of  the  ancient 
world  have  walked,  and  bcliold  buildings  ever  admired 
and  imitated,  and  never  equalled  in  beauty.  We  stand 
on  the  platform  which  is  above  the  Temple,  the  For- 
tress, and  the  Museum  of  Athens." 

A  notice  of  the  Acropolis,  on  or  around  -wliich  all 
the  most  magnificent  and  important  buildings  of  Athens 
were  collected,  is  naturally  followed  by  some  reaiaiks 
on  tho  state  of  the  arts  in  the  golden  era  of  this  city 
of  the  world.  I  shall  follow  lleeren,  classifying  the 
arts,  as  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting. 

Between  the  rough  Cyclopocau  walls  at  Mycenre 
and  tho  polished  marble  structures  of  the  Acropolis, 
wo  discern  as  great  a  distance,  whether  in  lapse  of 
years  or  of  progress  in  style ;  yet  even  in  the  poems 
of  Homer  we  meet  with  enough  of  architectural  detail 
to  cause  the  antiquarian  considerable  difficulty,  and  at 
the  same  time  prove  that  the  simplicity  of  early  Gre- 
cian structures  was  not  so  great  as  may  have  been  s'-p- 
posed.  But  there  is  a  certain  definite  style  of  archi- 
tecture, of  which  we  fortunately  possess  not  only  the 
models,  but  the  theory,  and  with  such  examples  as  it 
presents,  the  Acropolis  has  been  the  favourite  school 
of  imitation  for  the  architect  and  sculptor. 

lleeren  has  well  remarked,  in  reference  to  the  Heroic 
ages,  that,  "in  the  dwellings  and  halls  of  the  kings 
there  prevailed  a  certain  gi-andeur  and  splcndr  . 
which,  however,  wo  can  hardly  designate  by  the  name 


^ 


ATHENS. 


867 


of  scientific  architecture."  When,  however,  the  cur- 
rent of  popular  feeling  beg.an  to  run  in  favour  of  equal- 
ity of  rights,  and  an  almost  universal  participation  in 
the  government,  these  difTerences  in  private  dwellings 
were  looked  upon  as  invidious  distinctions,  and  to 
build  a  large  and  splendid  house  became  an  infringe- 
ment upon  popular  liberty. 

Hence  Athens  possessed  few  fine  streets.  Unlike 
our  own  modern  houses,  architectural  regularity  was 
little  cultivated,  and  the  materials  were  simple  and 
inexpensive.  "  The  splendour  of  the  city  was  not 
perceived  till  the  public  squares  and  the  Acropolis 
were  approached.  The  small  dwellings  of  Themis- 
tocles  and  Aristides  were  long  pointed  out ;  and  the 
building  of  large  houses  was  looked  upon  as  a  proof 
of  pride." 

Hence,  even  at  a  late  period,  when  luxury  had 
given  rise  to  larger  houses  and  more  expensive  esta- 
blishments, we  still  find  the  application  of  architectural 
symmetry  confined  to  temples,  and  subsequently  to  the 
theatres,  porticoes,  and  gymnasia.  Even  these,  how- 
ever, may  be  regarded  as  forming  part  of  the  religious 
structure  of  Athens.  So  intimately  was  the  drama 
connected  with  the  sacred  rites  of  Bacchus,  that  we 
are  at  once  struck  with  the  similar  coincidence  in  the 
origin  of  our  own  dramatic  literature  from  the  rude 
"mysteries"  of  the  middle  ages. 

To  describe  the  temples  which  cluster  about  the 
precincts  of  Athens  were  an  endless  task.  Koble  are 
the  proportions  of  the  columns,  varied  the  devices  on 
the  friezes,  telling  whole  histories  of  the  heroes  whose 
greatness  and  Avhose  services  had  deserved  these  pe*' 


868 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


manent  thov.li  .!!.«?'»'>' actd  meinorin,l3,  and  celebrating 
aItornat(  1/  the  loves  and  battles  of  those  gods  whom 
they  had  raised  from  their  fanciful  conceptions  of 
ennobled  humanity. 

Is  there  le«8  of  symbolism  in  the  Grecian  than  in 
tho  Oriental  temple?  Und'>'-'^*- "  not.  But  it  is 
of  a  less  grotesque,  of  a  more  refined  and  puetical  cha- 
racter. And  it  is  so  in  natural  objects.  Each  stream 
has  its  legend  of  hapless  youth,  of  maiden,  "  who  had 
loved  not  wisely,  but  too  well;"  of  nymph  wafted  to 
realms  of  love  and  bliss  athwart  the  breath  of  tho 
amorous  zephyr.  Where  Plato  muses,  there  Socrates 
prates  casuistry  against  casuistry;  there  glides  the 
Ilissus — that  gentle  stream  which  he  dared  not  enter 
befor<3  he  had  appeased  the  god  of  love  whom  his 
invectives  had  oflFended.  There  did  his  guardian 
spirit,  that  pleasing  riddle  to  Platonists,  hinder  *^-c 
hasty  words  of  its  talkative  master.  As  we  follow 
the  little  stream  in  its  humble  course,  the  air  seems 
peopled  with  the  ghosts  of  the  martyr  philosopher  and 
bis  disciples;  the  spirits  of  the  waters  ^"em  to  join 
chorus,  and,  as  we  lool;  at  the  ruined  prospect  before 
us,  we  feel  thankfm  that  a  Plato  sti^l  lives  imperish- 
ably  in  his  writings — that  gacy  which  is  its  o^vn 
title-deed. 

Nor  was  the  Grecian  character  unobservant  of  the 
charm  of  such  associations.  As  the  inhabitants  of' 
Chios  rejoiced  in  pointing  out  the  rock  benches  on 
which  Homer  sat  and  discoursed  iu  song,  so  Jid  the 
Athenians  yearn  with  affectioi:  ror  each  spot  that  li.id 
been  the  scene  of  bygoi  ^lorif'  .  where  the  heart  had 
warmed  with  impulse,  th'  .me     <ation  expandc  i  in  the 


a» 


ATHENS. 


850 


sublimity  of  poetry,  or  the  reason  descenled  into  its 
own  innermost  depths  in  quest  of  as-oft-receding  cer- 
tainty. Even  the  plane-tree  that  Socrates  had  loved, 
that  Plato  iiad  celebrated,  and  which  has  furnished  a 
dozen  declaimers  with  descriptions,  was  shown  with 
delight  in  the  days  of  Tully. 

But  all  the  poetry  of  Athens,  whother  sculptured  on 
the  legends  of  the  friezes  of  the  Parthenon,  pealing 
forth  in  the  sublime  choruses  of  the  Attic  tragedians 
or  varying  the  licavy  qua  ntncss  of  Socratic  discus- 
sions with  fictions,  happily  and  h  lorously  explained ; 
all  the  solemn  grandeur  of  her  temples,  the  learned 
gloom  of  her  porticoes,  and  the  costly  magnificence 
of  her  theatrical  representatious ;  these  all  derived 
their  vitality  and  character  from  the  grand  principle 
by  which  each  man  was  taught  to  hold,  and  contribute 
to  the  existence  of  one  common  good,  in  the  well- 
being  of  which  his  own  self-preservation  was  con- 
cerned. I'octry,  literature,  and  art  were  not,  as 
amoiiffst  so  many  modern  states,  the  profession  of  a 
fe\  ^  rson*'  of  half-recognised  standing,  whose  know- 
kuge,  by  '  ig  in  perfectly  imparted  at  certain  prices, 
may  atone  t1  ■>  ignorance  and  tastelessness  of  a 

listless  aristocricj  The  threadbare  boorishness  of 
Spaita,  wit  her  contracted  policy  and  soul-fatiguing 
discipline,  falls  into  the  shade,  in  this  respect,  before 
the  poetical  peojile  of  Athens. 

To  the  same  public  spirit  was  't  due,  that  works  of 
art  were  not  executed  for  the  L  ed  purpose  of  adorn- 
ing the  staircases  of  the  ni  '  ilitj,  uut  n 3  votive  offerings, 
or  gifts  to  the  public ;  attesting  at  once  the  liberality 
of  the  giver,  and  the  public  spirit  which  enshi.  .ed 


"loi^jl^ 


r 


800 


ailKAT  CniES  OF  THE  WullLD. 


each  pot  gem  of  art  in  tho  aanctuaries  )f  the  goda, 

or  in   tho  piiblio  buil(iin;^8  wlicro  cv««rv  nian   might 

admire,  as  ho  trnfficked  in  the  onlinnry  business  of 
life. 

"Tho  great  masters,"  says  our  hitely-quotcd  rmtho- 
rity,  "  wore  chiefly  in  the  employ  of  tlie  pul.lic.  Tho 
community,  either  directly  or  through  it  leii.lera,  as 
M-o  lo'irn  from  the  instance  of  rericles,  either  oidcred 
works  of  art,  or  bought  them  ready  made,  to  onmmont 
the  city  and  public  buildings.  We  have  distitict  evidonce 
that  tho  great  masterpieces  of  Phidias,  Praxiteles,  an<l 
Lysippus,  had  this  origin.  Thus  were  j)ro(luced  the 
Jupiter  of  Olympia,  the  Miuerva  Polias  at  Athens,  by 
Phidias  ;  the  Venus  at  Cnidus  and  at  Cos,  by  Praxitch's ; 
the  Colossus  or  Rhodes,  by  Lysippus.  Yet  numerous 
as  were  the  applications  of  cities,  tho  immense  multitude 
of  statues  could  not  bo  accounted  lor,  unless  the  piety 
and  vanity  of  individuals  had  come  to  their  assistance. 

"  The  first  assisted  by  the  votive  oflerings,  of  which 
all  tho  celebrated  temples  were  full.  These  wore  not 
always  works  of  art,  being  as  often  more  costly  presents. 
Yet  the  collection  of  statues  and  pictures  which  belonged 
to  those  temples,  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  votive 
offerings.  But  these  wore  as  often  tho  tribute  of 
gratitude  from  whole  cities  as  from  individuals." 

"  Painting,  from  its  very  nature,  seems  to  have  been 
more  designed  for  private  use.  Yet,  in  the  age  of 
Pericles,  when  the  great  masters  in  this  art  appeared 
in  Athens,  it  was  hardly  less  publicly  applied  than  the 
art  of  sculpture.  It  was  in  the  public  porticoes  and 
temples  that  Polygnotus,  Micon,  and  others,  exhibited 
the  productions  of  their  genius.    No  trace  is  to  be 


ATHEXi. 


801 


found  of  colebratoJ  private  pictures  I„  those  times 
le  por  ra.t-pa;ntin,  „cems  peculiarly  to  belong  to 
p.    ate    hfo.     Tins   branch  of  the  art  was  certain  v 

marnge      ^J'ol'kencH^csofcelebrHto.l  men  were  placed 
n  tl.e  p,c turos  which  co.nrnernorate.l  their  actio.'       s 

toofM.Uudes„uhepaintingof  the   battle  in  the 
code,  or  p.ctured  portico  at  Athens;  or  the  o,rti«ta 
found  a  place  fur  themselves  or  thoir  mistresses  in  s  eh 
pu  he  works      U,u  portrait-painting,  as  such,  did  not 
m   Hc^  fK.ur.h  till  the  times  of  Philip  and  Alexander 
und  was  hrst  practised  in  the  school  of  Apelles.  When 
powerful  pnnces  arose,  curiosity  or  flattery  desired  to 
possess  thcMrhkenoss;   the  artists  were  most  sure  of 
i-cce.v.ng  compensation  for  such  labours ;  and  private 
Ha  ues   as  well  as   pictures  began  to  grow  common, 
although,  ,n  most  cases,  something  of  ideal  beauty  was 
added  to  the  resemblance." 

'I  So  deeply  was  the  idea  rooted  among  the  Greeks, 
h,.t  the  works  of  artists  were  public,  that  it  could  not 
be  eradicated  even  by  the  profanations  of  the  Romans. 
It  was  thus  that,  by  attaining  their  proper  end,  they 
flourished  so  greatly  in  Greece.    The  works  of  art  were 
considered  as  belonging  not  to  individuals,  but  to  the 
cultnated  part  of  mankind.     They  should  be  a  common 
property      Even  in  our  times,  when  individuals   are 
permuted  to  possess  them,  censure  is  incu.  red  if  otheiu 
also  are  not  allowed  to  enjoy  them.     .     .     .     Ho^ 
much  more  honoured  does  the  artist  feel,  how  much 
more  freely  does  he  breathe,  when  he  knows  that  he  is 
exerting  himself  for  a  nation  which  will  esteem  ita  glory 


>:e<S^f?Sd. 


862 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE  WORLD. 


increased  by  hia  works,  instead  of  toiling  for  the  money 
and  the  caprices  of  individuals." 

A  brief  glance  at  the  literature  of  Athens  is  all  that 
our  limits  can  afford.  The  theme  is  a  noble  one,  and 
has  been  already  made  the  subject  of  so  much  criticism, 
that  we  must  fain  content  ourselves  with  a  short  sketch 
of  its  aim  and  its  effect. 

Tragedy  and  comedy,  in  their  finished  state,  d  >rivo 
their  origin  from  Athens.  Patriotism  nerved  and 
ripened  into  manhood  the  babe  that  Poetry  had  given 
to  the  light ;  in  the  hands  of  ^schylus,  the  tragic  muso 
strode  along  in  haughty  sublimity,  struggling  with  the 
words  that  could  scarce  give  expression  to  thoughts 
almost  beyond  language — at  one  time  pealing  forth  the 
shout  of  victory  over  the  Persian  foe,  at  another 
gloomily  bemoaning  the  destinies  impending  the  Atrcan 
house,  or,  in  language  worthy  to  be  carvod  on  the 
smooth  surface  of  some  lightning-rent  precipice,  descri- 
bing the  God-defying  prowess  of  the  rock-bound  Titan, 
and  rivalling  the  convulsions  of  nature  while  he  details 
them. 

In  quieter  gait  walks  Sophocles.  Ilis  sublimity  is 
attempered  with  sweetness ;  and  we  draw  nigh  to  his 
magnificence,  while  we  are  allured  by  its  solemn 
tenderness.  The  "Attic  bee"  is  more  loveable  than 
his  great  predecessor — ^yet  no  less  glorious. 

Third  and  last,  in  time  and  rank,  trips  along  the 
flighty?  ingenious  Euripides  ;  now  drawing  tears  by 
some  unlooked-for  outburst  of  pathos,  now  frittering 
away  his  chastened  Greek  in  dogmatic  scepticism  or 
casuistic  selfishness.  We  like  Euripides,  we  admire 
him  sometimes — bat  there  praise  must  cud. 


sV 


ATHENS. 


363 


What  shall  we  say  of  dear,  wicked,  scandalous 
Aristophanes,  with  his  "screaming"  parodies  of  Euri. 
pides,  his  magnificent  flights  of  poetic  fancy-at  times 
rivalling  those  oF  the  tragic  poets  themselves,  and  his 
sublime  "  putting  1own"  of  Cleon  ?  Truly,  as  Mitchell 
observed,  "Nature  made  but  one,  and  broke  the  mould 
m  which  he  was  cast!" 

Much  complaint  has  been  made  of  the  personalities 
with  which  the  writings  of  the  comedians  teem,  and 
Aristophanes  has  been  represented  as  a  mere  buffoon 
in  whose  eyes  neither  the  sacrcc'ness  of  private,   nor 
the  dignity  of  public,  character  wore  objects  of  respect, 
lo  this  It  has  been  well  answered,  that  "  private  life 
as  such,  was  never  the  subject  of  comedy,  except  so  far 
as  it  was  connected  with  the  public."     It  was  the  close 
connection  of  every  Athenian  with  the  government  and 
politics  of  his  city,  rendering  every  man  an  item  in  the 
admmistering  influence  of  the  State,  that  rendered  him 
open  to  such  attacks.    Cleon's  private  vices  would  have 
formed  no  whetstone  for  the  wit  of  Aiistophan^^s,  if 
they  had  not  been  developed  to  the  injury  of  the  public 
weal.     In  a  word,  "  whatever  excited  public  attention, 
whether   in   persons   or  in   things,  would   probably  be 
brought  on  the  stage.     The  most  powerful  dem-go-me 
m  the  height  of  his  power,  did  not  escape  this  fate; 
nay,  the  people  of  Athens  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
Itself  personified  and  brought  upon  the  stage,  where  it 
could  laugh  at  itself  till  it  was  satisfied  with  mirth;  and 
the  poet  was  crowned  for  having  done  so.     What  is  our 
freedom  of  the  press,  our  licentiousness  of  the  press, 
compared  with  their  freedom  and  licentiousness  of  the 
drama?" 


804 


QRKAT  CITIKS  OF  THE  WOULD. 


But  Aristophanes  was  no  buffoon.  Like  Rabelais, 
his  closest  modern  copyist,  ho  degenerated  into  coarse- 
ness, even  while  moralizing  on  the  characters  of  the 
day ;  like  him,  too,  he  was  unfortunate  in  finding 
characters  but  too  fraught  with  unwholesome  example  ; 
and  where  the  original  was  disgusting,  the  portrait 
could  hardly  be  a  graceful  one.  But  the  mind  tliat 
could  rival  Empedocles  and  other  earlier  cosmogonists 
in  idealizing  a  fable  of  the  creation  of  things,  that  has 
made  the  "  clouds"  creatures  of  fairy-like  interest,  that 
read  the  loftiest  and  most  faultless  lessons  of  morality 
to  the  listless  manhood  and  degenerate  youth  of  the 
Cecropian  city, — such  a  poet  must  have  condescended 
to  ribaldry,  not  written  up  ribaldry,  for  its  own  sake. 
Furthermore,  the  popularity  of  Aristophanes,  and  liis 
wondrous  influence  upon  the  political  cliaracters  of  his 
time,  fully  prove  that  his  writings  did  not  shock  the 
modesty  of  an  Athenian  audience — if  modesty  there 
were  any — but  that  too  mucli  temptation  existed  in  a 
corrupt  public  taste,  to  fetter  the  mind  of  the  most 
reckless  writer  ever  known. 

When  a  gradual  falling  away  of  the  genuine  patriot- 
ism of  Greece  began  to  herald  her  downfal,  comedy 
took  a  corresponding  change.  Satire  became  dangerous, 
when  liberty  had  become  a  murketablc  commodity,  and 
personal  invective  qui'iled  before  personal  means  and 
influence.  A  new,  we  may  almost  call  it,  drawing- 
room  style  of  comedy,  was  introduced,  at  the  head  of 
which  we  may  fairly  place  Menander. 

Personal  satire  and  pointed  attacks  upon  particular 
abuses  now  gave  way  to  a  subjective  style  of  poetry, 
in  which  developement  of  human  character,  less  exagge- 


ATHENS. 


865 


rated,  and  more  closely  approximating  to  the  simplicity 
of  common  hfo,  formed  the  leading  feature.     To  paint 
astory  of  every  day  life,  ^.ith  a  sufficient  adherence  to 
probability  to  bo  agreeable,  and  yet  sufficiently  height- 
cned  to  prevent  its  degenerating  into  insipiclity-and 
to  blend  moral  axioms  with  neatly-drawn  pictures  of 
characters  illustrating  their  tendency-this  was,  as  far 
a.  wo  may  judge  from  the  imitations  of  Terence,  the 
motive  which  actuated  the  writers  of  the  New  Comedy 
But  whilst  we  may  gladly  admit  that  some  refinement 
m  principles,  and  some  greater  delicacy  in  language 
was  attained  by  this  class  of  writers,  it  is  certain  that 
tluTo  was  a  corresponding,  and  more  than  equivalent 
tailing  away  in  the  grand  essentials  of  wit  and  humour 
As  well  might  wc  compare  tho  slang  punning  wit  of 
(.eorge   Coleman,  junior,    with    the   more  chastened 
sarcasm  of  a  Vanbrugh,  a  Farquhar  or  a  Sheridan,  as 
contrast  the  productions  of  tho  new  ..hool  with  those 
of  Aristophanes.     The  fact  is,  the  dram«  degenerates 
into  commonplace  when  writerc-  strive  to  be  merely 
natural.  To  form  a  tragedy  or  a  comedy,  humau  M*Je 
must  be  exaggerated  or  deprcs^d,  and  the  mea^we-rf 
tins  exaggeration  or   depression  h  perhap,.   th<.  }^ 
standard  of  fair   criticism.     Mrs.   m4om  hm  ^^m 
known  to  abandon  many  of  her  old  "•tejr«trkks" 
because,  although  natural   and  well   conc^red,   tkL 
owered  the  dignity  of  tragedy  into  commonplace,     li 
hke  manner,  English  tragedy  has  been  either  exagge- 
rated into  melodrama,  or  vaporized  into  dull  verbial 
while  comedy  and  low  farce  have  become  identical.     A 
gcod  play,  tragic  or  comic,  must  have  some  absurdities 
but  It  13  m  the  defining  the  limit  of  these  absurdities' 


L=. 


866 


QKEAT   CITIES   OF  TIIK   MOULD. 


and  subduing  them  beneath  a  language  that  elevates 
their  very  improbability,  that  the  art  of  the  dramatic 
poet  consists. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  influence  of  poetry  upon 
the   human   mind,  there  is  another  faculty  which  is 
equally  capable  of  being  turned  to   the  best  or   the 
worst  effect,  especially  in  cities,  namely,  Oratory.     No 
city  ever  boasted  a  school  of  eloquence  equal  to  Athens. 
Even  our  own  statesmen  of  the  long  reign  of  Gcor-re 
the  Third  scarcely  parallel  the  golden  reign  of  oratory 
at  Athens.     In  fact,  oratory  existed  at  Athens  only. 
The   quaint   proverbial   style   of  the   Lacedemonians 
might  excite  the   same  feelings  of  satisfaction  as  we 
derive  from  a  well-turned  epigram,  or  a  tart  reply  to  a 
speech  in  "the  House,"— their  habit  of  saying  clever 
things  would  be  quite  as  amusing  as  any  thing  handed 
down   in  "  Joe  Miller,"  or  as  the  world-famed   Irish 
Bulls  so  often  invented  on  this  side  of  the  Channel. 
But  of  consolidated  oratory,  properly  so  called,  they 
had  none.     The  polished  sweetness,  the  gentle  grace- 
fulness, and  lively  antithesis— the  elaborate  exordium, 
the  neat  balancing  of  the  points  at  issue,  the  collation 
and  contrast  of  contradictory  evidences,  and  the  peal 
of  eloquence  winding  v.n  the  peroration,  and  almost 
hurling  the  minds  of  the  hearers  into  acquiescence— 
the  poetical   allusion,    the   happy   blending   of   local 
associations  with  the  matter  in  hand,  the  "  wise  saws 
and  modern  instances,"— the   subtiltios   and   delicate 
quibblings  to  which  the  interpretation  of  a  doubtful 
law,  or  the  varying  statements  of  witnesses  might  give 
rise,  and  the  cutting  sarcasm  v  ith  which  these  were  in 
turn  refuted— in   a  word,  all  that  kept  the  anxious 


'■Vf  • -■    Vv'^*,'  ' 


ATHENS. 


867 


thousands  of  busy  Athens  hanging  on  the  words  of 
the  speaker— was  wanting  in  the  oratory  of  Sparta. 
Athens  was  the  grand  school  of  eloquence,  where  even 
Cicero  was  glad  to  learn.  Let  us  glance  briefly  at  a 
few  of  her  scholars. 

Unfortunately,  we  have  no  specimens  of  the  orations 
spoken    by   Pericles,   except   the    fur.crai    panegyric 
preserved  by  Thucydides  in  his  second  book,  and  this 
must  be  regarded  rather  as  the  substance  of  what  was 
spoken  over  the  bodies  of  the  slain  than  as  the  precise 
words  of  the   speech.     But  the  concurrent  voice  of 
antiquity  pronounces  decisively  in  4'avour  of  his  won- 
drous power  of  arresting  the  attention  by  a  sweetness 
of  language  almost  unparalleled,  although  blended  with 
the  happiest  and  most  searching  touches  of  delicate 
irony.     As  the  polished  gentleman  and  statesman,  he 
IS,   perhaps,    the  most    favourable    specimen   history 
nas  recorded  in  Athenian  society ;  an  easy  urbanity, 
mingled  with  firmness;  a  scholarlike  taste,  unsullied 
by  conventional  selfishness  r  and  a  business-like  attention 
to  matters  of  finance  and  speculation,  uncorrupted  by 
sordid  meanness,  or  spiritless  economy— such  were  the 
qualities  which  adorned  Pericles  and  Athens  at  the 
same   time.      It   is   even   probable  that  these   very 
qualities   furnish  the  best  reason  for  our  having  no 
extant  productions  of  this  great  statesman.     He  spoke, 
doubtless,  extemporaneously,  and  antiquity  records  no 
regular  staff  of  reporters  at  Athens.     And  yet,  how 
much  better  must  have  been  the  fresh  enthusiasm  of 
Pericles,  than  the  tedious  rhetoric  and  sophistic  twaddle 
of  such  declamation  ^vriteis  as  Isocrates  I 
Among  the  Gijck  orators  whose  writings  have  been 


ii=.J=:z-j- 


S68 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THK   WORLD. 


handed  down  to  us,  partly  in  a  complete,  partly  m  a 
fragmentary  state,  Lysias  is  the  earliest  in  chronological 
order.  Although  his  orations  on  private  eases" are 
perhaps  less  interesting  than  his  public  ones,  yet  they 
appear  to  be  the  best.  A  shrewd  discei'iHuent  of  the 
various  points  of  evidence,  a  vivid  perception  of  the 
best  means  of  upsetting  a  fallacy  or  dogma,  and  a  level 
dignity  of  language,  at  once  free  from  plobeiarv  simplicity 
or  pedantic  ostentation,  render  these  specphes  models 
of  judicial  oratory  which  few  can  surpass.  Many  of 
his  orations,  moreover,  are  especially  valuable  in  an 
antiquarian  point  of  view,  although  they  at  the  same 
time  present  a  melancholy  picture  of  social  abuse  in 
respect  of  the  burthens  laid  by  the  state  on  the  fortunes 
of  the  wealthier  citizens. 

"Vast  sums  of  money  were  coIlecCed   by  forcible 
contribution,  and  laid  out  in  ministering  to  the  an.use- 
ments  of  the  people:   the   services   called   f.nrovpy^a, 
iyxvxua,.  pro vi tied  games  and  spectacles,  and  theatrical 
entertainments,  in  which  troops  of  singers  and  dancers 
displayed   their   musical  skill,    and    performed    their 
evolutions.     The  writings  of  Lysias  are  conceivetl  in 
the  spirit  of  determined  republicanism  ;  a  spirit  which 
delighted  in  arbitrary  confiscation,  and  which  seized 
on  the  fortunes  of  the  rich  to  replenish  that  exchequer, 
from  which  the  amusements  of  the  mob  were  to  be 
supplied ;  hence  arose,  on  one  hand,  the  most  anxious 
desire  to  conceal  wealth,  and  on  the  other,  unwearied 
acuteness  in  detecting  .  .     This  introduced  bribery  and 
falsehood  into  the  Athenian  courts  of  justice :  while 
those,   whose   opulence   was   proved,   and   who   wore 
consequently   plundered,    endeavoured    ta   indemnify 


ATHENS. 


869 


their  own  losses  by  the  corrupt  administration  of  the 
city  maglHtracies.  In  short,  the  speeches  of  tiiis  orator 
display  such  a  system  of- public  and  private  rapine  as 
miiy  dimmish  our  admiration  of  Athenian  government, 
and  teach  us  to  receive  with  caution  the  praises  which 
arc  lavished  on  the  advantages  of  Athenian  liberty." 

I^UDus,  Andocides,  and  several  others,  whose  works 
are  known  to  us  chiefly  in  a  fragmentary  form,  present 
various  examples  of  oratory  more  or  less  mingled  with 
judicial  and  political  archicology.  There  is  much  to 
admire  in  Andocides.  Charming  purity  of  language, 
headlong  vehemence  in  his  onslaughts  upon  an  opponent; 
and  a  finished  working  up  of  arguments,  make  us  regret 
that  this  orator's  works  are  not  more  popularly  known 
at  the  present  day. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  orator  of  nations,  Demos- 
thenes. JIow  great  were  the  vicissitudes  of  his  life! 
and  how  fraught  ^  i<\  example  and  interest !  With  our 
pciception  of  the  vanJv  Mat  actuated  some  movements 
of  his  life,  of  the  vacillation  that  may  have  once  or 
twice  defamed  his  fair  renown,  still  the  n:!!no  of  Demos- 
thenes  is  a  dearly-cherished  one  in  ^he  heart  of  every 
lover  of  eloquence  and  patriotism,  letu^n's  s'hotch  of 
his  life  is  so  good  a  picture  of  the  hv^lHy  of  Greece 
during  its  most  critical  period,  as  well  as  of  the  mighty 
influence  possessed  by  Demosthenes  over  the  fortunes 
of  Greece  that  no  apology  can  be  required  for  trans- 
ferring it  to  our  pages : — 

"Nothing  could  be  more  superfluous  than  the  desire 
of  becoming  the  eulogist  of  that  great  master,  whom 
the  united  voice  of  so  many  ages  has  declared  to  be 
the  first,  and  whose  panegyric,  the  only  rival  which 


870 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WOIILD. 


antiquity  had  pliiced  by  his  side,  has  pronounced  it  in 
a  n>anner  at  onco  accurate  and  honourable  to  both. 

"  We  would  not  here  speak  of  Demosthenes  the  orator, 
but  of  Demosthenes  the  statesman ;  and  of  him  only  as 
far  as  the  man,  the  orator,  and  the  statesman  were  inti- 
mately combined.  His  political  principles  emanated 
from  the  depth  of  his  soul,  he  remained  true  to  his  feel- 
ings and  his  convictions,  amidst  all  changes  of  cir- 
cumstanccs  and  all  threatening  dangers.  Hence  lie 
was  the  most  powerful  of  orators;  because  with  him 
there  was  no  surrender  of  his  conviction,  no  partial 
compromise ;  in  a  word,  no  trace  of  weakness.  This  is 
the  real  essence  of  his  art ;  every  thing  else  was  but 
secondary :  and  in  this,  how  far  docs  he  rise  above 
Cicero  !  and  yet,  who  ever  suffered  more  severely  than 
he  for  his  greatness  ?  Of  all  political  characters,  Demos- 
thenes is  the  most  sublime  and  purely  tragic  character 
with  Avhich  history  is  acquainted.  When,  still  trem- 
bling with  the  force  of  his  language,  we  read  his  life 
in  Plutarch,  when  we  transfer  ourselves  into  his  times 
and  his  situation,  wo  are  carried  away  by  a  deeper 
interest  than  can  be  excited  by  any  hero  of  the  epic 
muse,  or  tragedy.  From  his  first  appr.iraiice  till  the 
moment  when  he  swallowed  poison  in  the  temple,  we 
see  him  contending  against  destiny,  whioh  seems  to 
mock  him  with  malignant  cruelty.  It  throws  him  on 
the  ground,  but  never  subdues  him.  What  a  crowd  of 
emotions  must  have  struggled  through  his  manly 
breast,  amidst  this  interchange  of  reviving  and  expiring 
hopes !  How  natural  was  it,  that  the  lines  of  melan- 
choly and  indignation,  such  as  we  yet  behold  in  hi* 
bust,  should  have  been  imprinted  on  his  severe  coun 


^*^. 


ATHENS. 


871 


tonance!  Hardly  hac  •)  passed  the  years  of  his 
youth,  when  he  appeared,  in  his  own  behalf,  as  accuser 
of  his  faithless  guardians ;  from  whom,  however,  he  was 
able  to  rescue  only  a  small  part  of  his  patrimony.  In 
his  next  attempts,  insulted  by  the  multitude,  though 
encouraged  by  a  few  who  anticipated  his  future  great- 
ness, he  supported  an  obstinate  contest  with  himself, 
till  he  gained  the  victory  over  his  own  nature.  He 
now  appeared  once  more  as  an  accuser  in  public  prose- 
cutions, before  he  ventured  to  speak  on  the  affairs  of 
the  State.  But  in  the  very  first  of  his  public  speeches 
we  see  the  independent  statesman,  who,  without  being 
dazzled  by  a  splendid  project,  opposes  a  vast  under- 
taking. When  Philip  soon  after  displayed  his  designs 
against  Greece,  by  his  interference  in  the  Phocian  war, 
he  for  the  fii-st  time  came  forward  against  that  prince, 
in  his  first  Philippic  oration.  From  this  period,  he  was 
engaged  in  the  great  business  of  his  life — sometimes 
as  a  counsellor,  sometimes  as  accuser,  sometimes  as  an 
ambassador — he  protected  the  independence  of  his 
country  against  the  Macedonian  policy. 

"Splendid  success  seemed  at  first  to  reward  his 
exertions.  He  had  won  a  number  of  states  for  Athens ; 
when  Philip  invaded  Greece,  he  had  succeeded,  not 
only  in  gaining  over  the  Thebans,  but  in  kindling  their 
enthusiasm,  when  the  day  of  Chreroniea  overthrew  all 
his  hopes.  But  he  courageously  declares,  in  the  as- 
sembly of  the  people,  that  he  still  does  not  repent  of 
the  counsels  he  had  given.  An  unexpected  event 
changes  the  whole  aspect  of  things:  Philip  falls,  the 
victim  of  assassination ;  and  a  youth,  as  yet  but  little 
known,  is  his   successor.     Immediately  Demosthenes 


I 


==nl 


873 


a.nEAT   CITIES   OP  THE    WOULD. 


inititutci!  a  accontl  alliance  of  the  Greeks ;  but  Aiex- 
ftnder  suddenly  appears  before  Thebes;  the  terrible 
Teogeanco  which  he  here  takes  instantly  destroys  the 
league ;  Demosthenes,  Lycurgus,  hnd  several  of  their 
iupporters  are  required  to  be  de)ivereil  »p ;  but  De- 
raadea  was  at  that  time  able  to  settle  the  difficulty,  nnd 
to  appease  the  kinrr.     His   strenr,'th  was,   therefore, 
enfeebled  a»  Alexander  departed  fr(»in  Asia ;  he  begins 
to  raise  his  head  once  more,  Avhcn  Sparta  attempts  to 
throw  off  the  yoke ;  but  upder  Antipater  he  is  over- 
powered.    Yet  it  was  about  the  time  that,  by  the  moat 
celebrated  of  his  orations,  he  gained  the  victory  over 
the  most  eloijuent  of  his  adversaries,  and  ^schincs 
was  forced  to  depart  from  Athens.     But  this  seems 
only  to  hnve  more  embittered  his  enemies,  the  leaders 
of  the  Macedonian  party;   and  they  soon  found  an 
opportunity  of  preparing  his  downfall.     When  Ilarpa- 
lus,  a  fugiuvi;  from  the  army  of  Alexander,  came  with 
his  treastj/f  «<  %<j  Athens,  and  the  question  arose,  whether 
he  woTilii  "jf  pevmitted  to  remain  there  ?    Demosthenes 
was  accus-!?.]  of  having  been  corrupted  by  his  money, 
at  least  to  be  silent.     This  was  sufficient  to  procure 
the  imposition  of  a  fine ;  and  as  this  was  not  paid  he 
was  thrown  into  prison.     From  thence  he  succeeded  in 
escaping ;  but  to  the  man  who  lived  only  for  his  coun- 
try, exile  was  no  less  an  evil  than  imprisonment.     He 
resided  for  the  most  part  in  iEgina  and  at  Traezcn, 
from  whence  he  looked  with  sad  eyes  towards  the  oppo- 
site shores  of  Attica.  Suddenly  and  unexpectedly  a  new 
ray  of  light  dawned  upon  him.     Tidings  were  brought 
that  Alexander  was  dead.     The  moment  of  deliverance 
seetoed  at  kand  j  anxiety  pervaded  every  Grecian  state ; 


^ 


ATlll.-N'S.  ;     j 

the  ambaasadora  of  the  Athenians  passed  through  the 
cities;  Domostlioncs  joined  himself  to  the  number,  and 
exerted  all  his  cluijuence  and  power  to  unite  (Iiem 
against  Muccdoii.  In  requital  for  such  services,  the 
people  decreed  his  return;  and  years  of  sufferings  were 
at  lust  i'oUawed  hy  a  day  of  exalted  compensation.  A 
rnllcy  was  sent  to  ^Egina  to  bring  the  a('  f 

liberty.     All  Athens  was  in  motion  ;  no  an,  no 

priest  remained  in  the  city,  when  it  was  re,  ihat 

Demosthenes  was  advancing  from  the  Pira  Over- 

powetod  by  his  feelings,  he  extended  his  a.  ais  and 
declare<l  himself  happier  tlian  Alcibiades ;  for  his  coun- 
trymen iiiu'  ecallcd  him,  not  by  compulsion,  but  from 
choice.    It  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  sun,  which 

still  darkc'i  I3  were  soon  to  ovfrshadow.    Antipater 

and  Craterus  were  victorious,  and  ,.ith  them  the  IVraco- 
donian  j)arty  at  Athens ;  Demosthenes  and  his  Ak  nds 
were  numbered  among  the  accused,  and  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  Demades  were  condemned  to  die.     They  had 
already  withdrawn  in  secret  from  the  city  ; .  but  where 
could  they  find  a  place  of  refuge  ?     Ilyperides,  with 
two  others,  fled  to  /Egina,  and  took  refuge  in  the  tem- 
ple of  Ajax.     In  vain  !  they  were  torn  away,  dragged 
before    Antipater,    and    executed.      Demosthenes   had 
escaped  to  the  island  Caluri;j,  in  the  vicin'  y  of  Tra?zcn, 
and  taken  refuge  in  the  temple  of    x'eptuue.     It  was  to 
no  purpose  that  Archias,  the  satell-io  of  Antipater, 
urged  him  to  surrender  himself,  u'    jr  promise  of  par- 
don,    lie  pretended  he  wished  to  write  something,  bit 
the  quill,     nd  swallowed  the  poison  contained  in  it. 
He  then  veiled  himself,  reclining  his  head  backwards, 
till  he  felt  the  operation  of  the  poison.     <  0  Neptune  !' 


II 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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874 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


ho  exclaimed,  <they  have  defiled  thy  temple;  bat 
honouring  thee,  I  will  leave  it  while  yet  living.'  But 
he  sank  before  the  altar,  and  a  sudden  death  sepa- 
Mted  him  from  the  world,  which  after  the  fall  of  his 
country  contained  no  happiness  for  him.  Where  shall 
we  find  a  character  of  more  grandeur  and  purity  than 
that  of  Demosthenes  ?" 

This  masterly  historical  sketch  may  be  fairly  brought 
forward  as  an  instance  of  the  capability  of  eliciting  the 
state  of  the  times  from  the  writings  of  a  single  author. 
Indeed,  it  is  doubtful  whether  more  real  history  may 
not  be  learnt  from  the  practised  and  systematic  obser- 
vations of  a  single  politician,  than  from  a  mass,  how- 
ever copious,  of  conflicting  statements  and  second-hand 
descriptions.  The  great  spirits  of  the  world  are  so 
blent  with  the  material  mass  they  serve  to  illumine 
that,  viewed  apart  from  their  existence,  one  whole  con- 
ception of  the  facts  of  history  can  only  present  a  shape- 
less and  confused  void.  It  is  impossible  to  write  the 
history  of  the  times  of  a  great  man  apart  from  his  own 
life :  he  is  the  vital  principle  from  whence  the  lesser 
importance  of  other  men  radiates  in  difierent  degrees 
and  directions,  it  is  his  influence  that  gives  momentum 
to  the  gravitating  particles  of  humanity,  that  directs 
the  whole  living  world  to  one  centre,  from  which  it 
cannot  diverge  but  to  their  own  destruction. 

It  is  melancholy  to  contemplate  the  downfall  of 
Athenian  patriotism  during  the  eventful  career  of 
Demosthenes.  The  exaggeration  of  democracy  had 
proceeded  too  far,  and  Athens  hud  absolutely  been 
enslaved  by  her  own  liberty.  Moreover,  a  taste  for 
private  elegance  and  luxury,  had  superseded  the  noble 


ATHENS.  876 

liberality  that  had  onco  decorated  the  Acropolis.  But 
we  have  already  dwelt  long  on  this  sad  subject,  and  a 
more  p]on?.in<v  one  culls  away  our  attention— the  philo- 
Bophy  of  Atliuiis. 

Socrates  and  Plato  are  two  names  aasociuted  so  much 
with  fantastical  theories  and  speculations,  that  one  is 
almost  nrrnid  of  sayiiipr  any  thing  about  them,  for  fear 
of  falling   into   equal   incongruities.     Socrates   wrote 
nothing,  at  least,  nothing  that  appears  to  have  descen- 
ded  to  posterity ;  but  hid  conversation  and  habits  have 
been  handed  down  to  us  by  two  authors,  who  have  little 
ih  common,  Xenophon  and  Plato ;  while  the  latter  of 
these  is  not  even  consistent  with  himself  in  his  descrip- 
tion of  his  favourite  friend  and  master.     In  the  writings 
of  Xenophon,  some  of  which  seem  to  exhibit  fair  speci- 
mens of  the  table-talk  cf  Socrates,  we  are  distinctly 
told  that  Socrates  studied  matters  of  ordinary  life, 
using  the  most  familiar  illustrations,  without-troubling 
himself  about  physics  or  meteorology.     In  Plato,  So- 
crates appears  as  a  subtle  dialectician,  fresh  in  all  the 
quirks  and  by-play  of  the  Sophists,  and  discussing  the 
Pythagorean  and  other  earlier  cosmogonies,  without, 
however,  expressing  any  thing  like  a  definite  opinion  on 
the  subject.     Furthermore,  Avas  Socrates  the  man  of 
fancy,  which  the  PhiEdrus  and  Symposium  would  induce 
us  to  believe  ?    It  is  at  all  times  difficult  to  tell  when  Plato 
supposes  Socrates  to  mean  what  he  is  saj  ing ;  in  some 
cases  we  should  almost  feel  a  doubt  whether  he  attached 
any  meaning  whatever  to  what  he  says. 

Viewing  the  character  of  Socrates  apart  from  the 
frothy  verbiage  with  which  Plato  has  at  times  obscured 
it,  he  appears  as  a  man  uniting  a  singular  keenness  of 


I 


376 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  AVOIvLD. 


perception  with  an  afFable,  yet  artificial  show  of  aim 
plicity.  Of  his  high  talents  there  can  be  no  doubt , 
but  he  spoke  too  much.  A  disposition  to  sift  and  ex- 
pose the  follies  of  other  people,  especially  if  one  succeeds 
in  doing  so,  is  seldom  popular,  and  often  proves  dan- 
gerous to  its  possessor.  No  better  illustration  of  this 
can  be  quoted  than  the  heroic  death  of  Socrates.  He 
was  a  martyr,  not  to  the  truth,  but  to  the  vanity  of 
those  who  could  not  bear  the  discover^  that  they  were 
f /ols. 

We  may  pardon  Plato  his  misrepresentations,  when 
Nre  consider  the  charming  dress  in  which  he  has  clothed 
f,hem ;  and  his  historical  deficiencies  will  be  atoned  by 
Che  elegance  of  his  language,  the  graceful  play  of  his 
yj'it,  and  the  imaginative  variety  of  his  episodes.     At 
the  same  time,  I  must,  after  constant  reading  and 
comparison  of  the  whole  of  Plato's  writings,  express 
tt.y  unqualified  denial  of  any  scheme  that  professes  to 
unite  and  reconcile  their  tenor  as  a  whole.     If  Plato 
intended  them  to  be  such,  he  has  signally  failed  in  the 
execution  of  his   design;   as  the   inconsistencies  are 
tremendous.     And  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?     Could 
an  eclectic  philosophy,  which  culled  the  flowers  from 
every  scholastic  bower,  which  at  one  time  revelled  in 
the  cosmogonical  hypotheses  of  the  Pythagoreans ;  at 
another,  flitted  to  and  fro  in  the  dazzling  midday  sun 
of   Parmenidean   atoms—could   a    philosophy,   which 
talked  of  every  art  and  science,  which  seldom  concluded 
an  argument  in  such  a  manner  as  to  designate  the 
party  convinced,  and  where  absurdities  wore  sometimes 
balanced  on  a  needle's  point  of  accuracy — could  such 
a  farrago  of  thoughts,  hypotheses,  refutations,  &nd  ecu- 


F 


ATHENS.  879 

tradictions,  ever  i)os.sos3,  ever  assume  a  claim  to  definite 
system  ?  I  am  not  of  the  number  who  can  believe  so. 
It  is,  perhaps,  with  the  bias  of  a  prescribed  course 
of  education,  that  I  am  inclined  to  prefer  Aristotle  to 
Plato.  His  writings  are  immeasurably  loss  pleasing, 
but  they  are  sounder  and  better  food  for  the  mind. 
Concentration  of  the  mind  upon  the  subject  in  view, 
accuracy,  not  far-fetched  whimsicality,  of  illustration, 
and  a  more  systematic  technology,  are  pre-eminent 
advantages  which  the  philosopher  of  Stageira  possesses 
over  the  Athonian.  In  Plato,  we  too  often  tickle  our 
appetite  with  the  ices  and  champagne  of  a  pic-nic  lunch. 
In  Aristotle,  we  find  a  dinner  that  whets  our  appetite 
with  a  healthy  desire  for  eating  more.  Plato  was  a 
gentleman-philosopher ;  perhaps  to  Socrates  what  Bos- 
well  was  to  Johnson.  Aristotle  was  a  philosopher  by 
profession,  and  understood  his  profession  well.  Let 
no  one  think  I  dislike  Plato.  It  is  because  I  love  his 
writings,  that  I  am  tired  of  the  theories  which  have 
been  invented  to  excuse,  sometimes  to  make  virtues  of 
their  worst  faults. 

I  cannot  make  a  more  natural  transition  than  from 
Athenian  philosophy  to  Athenian  Christianity ;  and  a 
brief  consideration  of  the  state  of  this  most  interesting 
city  at  the  time  of  St.  Paul's  visit  will  form  a  fitting 
conclusion  to  our  notice. 

Athens  was  literally  full  of  shrines  and  temples  in 
honour  either  of  their  own  gods,  or  of  those  whom  they 
had  naturalized.  Paul's  "spirit  was  stirred  in  him 
when  he  saw  the  city  full  of  idols,"  and  he  began  to 
enter  into  disputes  both  with  the  Jews  and  the  prose- 
lytes.    The  same  bigotry  that  had  formerly  assailed 


880 


GIIEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


Socrates,  now  became  the  lot  of  Paul,  and  he  was 
reviled  with  no  small  bitterness  as  "  a  setter  forth  of 
Btrange  gods."  When  he  appeared  before  the  court 
of  Areopagus,  and  wan  questioned  touching  the  "  new 
doctrine,"  he  made  the  celebrated  defence  which  has 
been  so  often  quoted  as  a  proof  of  his  temperate  judg- 
ment as  well  as  his  religious  zeal.  Appealing  even 
to  their  own  Pagan  literature,  he  taught  them  that  in 
one  only  God,  *'  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being," 
exhorted  them  to  repentance,  and  set  forth  the  awful 
responsibilities  of  the  resurrection  and  final  judgment 
of  men.  But  the  babbling  people  of  Athena,  who  had 
sat  trifling  while  a  Demosthenes  spoke,  had  no  oars  even 
for  the  Great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  Some  mocked 
the  solemn  warning,  others  promised  to  consider  it, 
and  "  so  Paul  departed  from  among  them." 

Who  cannot  tell  what  followed  ?  Has  the  same 
scourge  that  has  laid  waste  almost  every  city  we  have 
described,  spared  the  proud  capitol  of  Cecropia  ?  Her 
ruins  tell  the  same  story  of  the  fall  of  Idolatry,  and  the 
spreading  abroad  of  everlasting  and  immutable  truth 
with  a  silent  eloquence  that  is  made  appalling  by  their 
magnificence. 


le  vras 
rth  of 
court 
"  new 
zh  has 
>  judg. 
J  even 
blmt  in 
eing," 
'  awful 
gment 
10  had 
8  even 
locked 
ier  it, 

same 
)  have 

Her 
nd  the 

truth 
'  their 


I 


CORINTH. 


LTHOUGH  Corinth  cannot  be 
regarded  as  belonging  to  the 
number  of  those  cities  which 
have  wrought  great  changes  in 
the  history  of  the  human  race, 
and  have  left  corresponding 
memorials  attesting  the  power 
that  must  have  wrought  those 
changes,  still,  there  is  much 
that  is  interesting  both  in  its  early  political  impor- 
tance, and  its  conspicuous  position  at  the  outset 
of  the  Peloponuesian  war.  Although  one  of  the  small- 
est states  in  Greece,  its   situation   was  commanding, 

and  its  resources  immense.     Heeren  well  remarks  : 

"  Venice  was  never  more  flourishing,  or  more  power- 
ful, than  at  a  time  when  it  did  not  possess  a  square  mile 
on  the  continent.  Wealthy  Oorinth,  more  than  four 
miles  in  extent,  lay  at  the  foot  of  r^eep  and  elevated 
hill,  on  which  its  citadel  was  built.  There  was  hardly 
a  stronger  fortress  in  all  Greece,  and  perhaps  no  spot 
afforded  a  more  splendid  prospect  than  Acrocorinthus. 
Beneath  it  might  be  seen  the  busy  city  and  its  territory, 
with  its  temples,  its  theatres,  and  its  aqueducts.  Its 
two  harbours— Lechseum  on  the  western  bay,  Cenchre» 
on  the  eastern,  filled  with  ships,  and  the  two  bays 


884 


OIIKAT  CITIKS  01''  TUi;  WUULU, 


themselves,  with  the  isthmus  hetween  them,  were  all  in 
flight.  Tho  peaks  of  Helicon,  and  Parnassus  itself 
were  seen  at  a  distance ;  and  a  stron;^  eyo  could 
distinguish,  on  the  eastern  side,  tho  Acropolis  of 
Athens.  What  images  and  emotions  are  excited  bv 
this  prospect !" 

With  such  advantages,  it  is  not  strange  that,  even 
at  an  early  period,  Corinth  should  have  taken  u  foremost 
position  among  the  great  cities  of  Greece.  Homer 
digniCed  her,  under  her  ancient  name  of  Ephyre,  as 
tho  "  opulent"  city,  and  her  fame  as  such  histed  even 
to  the  days  of  John  Chrysostom.  riuisajiias  remarks, 
that  in  his  time  "  none  of  the  ancient  Corinthians  dwell 
there,  but  colonists  sent  thither  by  the  Romans.  And 
tho  cause  of  this,"  continues  the  same  antiquarian, 
"  was  the  Aclncan  synod  ;  for  tho  Corinthians  took 
part  in  this  with  the  other  states,  in  the  war  against 
the  Romans,  in  obedience  to  the  suggestions  of  Ciitoiaus, 
who,  having  been  appointed  general  of  the  Achreans, 
persuaded  both  the  Achreans  and  the  greater  part  of 
those  without  Peloponnesus  to  revolt.  When  tho 
Romans  had  prevailed  in  the  war,  they  took  away  the 
arms  from  the  other  Greeks,  and  strip]<ed  all  the 
fortified  cities  of  their  walls."  W^o  shall  hereafter 
revert  to  the  amusing  stupidity  of  tho  valiant  but 
tasteless  consul,  Mummius,  upon  this  occasion,  merely 
observing  that  the  Corinth  of  St.  Paul's  time  must 
subsequently  be  regai'ded  rather  as  a  Roman  colony 
than  a  Grecian  city. 

The  quaint  Horatian  epithet,  "  Corinth  of  the  two 
seas,"  neatly  describes  its  position  between  the  Ionian 
and  JEgean  seas,  a  position  which  was  valuable  in  a 


CORINTH^. 


886 


oommcrcial  point  of  view.  In  oonscquenc«  of  th« 
difficulty  of  weathering  tlio  western  promontory  of 
Mulea,  mcrchandiHe  wan  conveyed  across  land  from 
sea  to  sea,  the  city  of  Corinth  thus  becoming  an 
immediate  moans  of  communication  for  the  wealth  and 
wares  of  Asia  and  Italy.  Its  traffic  from  north  to 
south  was  equally  ready  and  extensive.  Natural 
difficulties,  presented  by  the  rocky  and  stubborn  soil, 
frustrated  the  attempt  made  to  forni  a  canal  through 
the  isthmus ;  but  at  one  period  the  Curiuthians  used  to 
haul  the  galleys  across,  from  sea  to  sea,  on  vast  trucks 
or  sledges.  Nor  were  the  Corinthians  less  happy  in 
the  employment  than  in  the  acquisition  of  gain : 
liberality  and  taste  distinguished  their  public  works 
and  private  expenditure,  and  at  the  time  when  Corinth 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Romans,  few  richer  or  nobler 
prizes  could  have  been  desired,  even  by  the  insatiate 
cupidity  of  a  Vcrres. 

The  popular  origin  of  Corinth  betrays  the  usual 
attempts  to  connect  its  earlier  dynasties  with  the  royal 
houses  of  mythic  history.  Sisyphus,  Bellerophon,  und 
many  other  heroes  of  ancient  tragedy,  appear  among 
the  list  of  its  sovereigns,  and  the  memory  of  these 
departed  monarchs  was  preserved  in  the  groves  which 
adjoined  its  precinct.  But  one  curious  point  in  its 
ancient  history,  deserves  especial  notice,  as  furnishing 
an  historical  parallel  to  the  half-mythical  history  of 
early  Athens. 

When  the  grand  movement  of  the  northern  tribes 
brought  the  Dorians  and  Ileracleids  in  one  vast  troop 
upon  the  less  hardy  states  of  the  Morea,  the  descendants 
of  Sisyphus,  who  had  already  been  tributary  to  tb« 


t3c::-:i:r:_r: 


886 


•MAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


sovereigns  of  Argos  and  Mycenae,  abdicated  the  crown 
in  favour  of  Aletes,  a  descendant  of  Hercules,  whose 
lineal  descendants  occupied  the  throne  of  Corinth  for 
five  generations,  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  the 
throne  passed  into  the  family  of  the  Bacchiadse,  who 
retained  it  for  a  like  period. 

And  now  came  a  political  change,  analogous  to  that 
which  substituted  Medon,  the  son  of  Codrus,  as  archon 
or  chief  magistrate,  at  Athens,     While  the  prestige  in 
favour  of  the  old  royal  family  was  retained,  an  aristo- 
cratic system  took  the  place  of  the  monarchical ;  and 
although  the  chief  power  remained  vested  in  the  hands 
of  the  Bacchiadae,  they  formed  a  staff  of  civil  magis- 
trates probably  with  some  power  of  mntual  self-control, 
in  lieu  of  a  patriarchai,  yet  absolute  government  by 
kings.     In  the  year  629  b.  c,  Cypselus,  a  man  of 
unbounded  spirit  and  ambition,  succeeded  in  expelling 
the  Bacchiadae,  and  I'n  establishing  himself  in  a  firm 
tyranny.     Many  were  the  cruelties   which  befell  the 
hapless  descendants  of  Bacchis.     Death  or  exile  made 
as  siire  havoc  among  the  relics  of  the  old  royal  family 
of  Corinth  as  among  the  offshoots  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth. 
Among  the  most  distinguished  exiles  was  Demaratus, 
the  father  of  Lucumo,  or  Tarquinius  Priscus,  king  of 
Rome. 

But  whatever  were  the  crimes  of  Cypselus— crimes 
which  ambition  and  the  passion  for  gain  unfortunately 
associate  with  the  history  of  almost  every  nation, 
ancient  or  modern— it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  was  a 
prince  of  much  tact  and  ability.  Corinth  had  always 
been  renowned  for  the  extent  and  prosperity  of  her 
•ol«nial  infiu«noe:  and  Cypgelus  was  not  impolitic 


L- 


Efcxz: 


CORINTH.  887 

enough  to  neglect  so  important  an  item  in  the  political 
scheme  of  his  dominion.  Ambracia,  Anactorium,  and 
Leucas,  were  added  to  the  colonies  already  possessed 
by  the  Corinthians. 

Among  the  seven  "wise  men"  of  Greece,  Periander, 
the  son  and  successor  of  Cypselus,  has  unaccountably 
obtained  a  place.  Murder,  even  within  the  recesses 
of  his  own  family;  tyranny,  the  most  arbitrary  and 
fickle;  nnd  other  crimes  too  revolting  to  menticn, 
render  the  name  of  this  prince  pre-eminently  con- 
temptible. An  utter  want  of  natui  "eeling,  blended 
with  a  weakness  that  hindered  his  resolute  perse- 
verance in  the  crimes  he  instigated  and  abetted,  leave 
the  memory  of  Periander  nought  but  a  record  of 
vicious  inability  and  maudlin  brutishness.  It  was  by 
his  cruelties  that  the  Corcyreans,  stung  by  his  unnatural 
treatment  of  his  son  Lycophron,  and  his  subsequent 
tyranny  over  themselves,  were  driven  to  revolt ;  and 
the  result,  shown  in  the  earliest  naval  engagement 
ever  fought,  proved  the  active  Corcyreans  had  learned 
all  that  their  mother-state  could  teach  them. 

I  have,  in  my  remarks  on  Athens,  alluded  to  the 
mischievous  influence  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  upon 
the  whole  of  the  Grecian  states.  Corinth  took  a 
forward  part  in  this  unfortunate  struggle,  and  became 
the  most  important  enemy  to  Athens.  Repeated  pro- 
vocations, first  arising  from  the  aid  rendered  by  the 
Athenians  to  their  Megarcan  neighbours;  next,  by 
their  alliance  with  Corcyra ;  and  finally,  by  their 
treatment  of  Potidsea,  incited  them  to  side  with  the 
Spartans — a  conduct  for  which  the  alleged  treatment 
of  thej"  allies  seemed  to  furnish  ample  excuse.     Their 


388 


OREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULl). 


enterprise  at  sea,  although  at  first  inadequate  to  Trith> 
stand  the  better  discipline  of  the  Athenian  navy,  event- 
ually  proved  a  match  for  their  practised  enemies,  and 
not  only  obtained  success  for  themselves,  but  likewise 
secured  it  to  the  Syracusans  on  a  subsequent  occaBJon, 

After  the  battle  of  Amphipolis,  when  hostilities 
seemed  to  be  coming  to  a  close,  the  Corinthians, 
justly  aggravated  by  the  selfish  conduct  of  the  Lace- 
demonians, who  had  made  an  exclusive  treaty  with 
Athens,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  the  interest 
of  their  allies,  joined  the  league  formed  by  Elis,  Man- 
tinea,  and  Argos,  with  a  view  to  the  mutual  protection 
of  their  rights  and  privileges.  But,  finding  the  Boeo- 
tians  unwilling  to  join  the  confederacy,  they  changed 
their  line  of  politics,  and  again  associated  themselves 
with  Sparta. 

During  the  hostilities  waged  between  the  Spartans 
and  Argives,  the  value  of  the  Corinthian  power  was 
felt,  especially  in  their  active  co-operation  Avith  Gylip- 
pus  for  the  recovery  of  Syracuse,  much  of  the  success 
of  that  attempt  being  due  to  the  conduct  and  valour 
of  Aristo,  the  most  able  admiral  of  the  Corinthian 
navy. 

But  when  the  states  of  Greece  began  to  exemplify 
the  truth  of  the  old  adage  respecting  the  strength  of 
unity,  when  intestine  divisions  were  gradually  sapping 
the  better  feelings  of  mutual  confidence  and  good-will, 
and  substituting  an  arbitrary  and  irritable  state  of 
dissension,  Athens  lay  at  the  mercy  of  its  opponents, 
and  the  Corinthians  urged  the  Lacedemonians  to 
destroy  that  city  which  had  been  so  unjust  an  enemy 
to  their  own  colonies,  and  so  proud  and  uncontrolled 


r^ 


CORINTH. 


889 


a  rival  to  Sparta.  But  the  memory  of  Marathon  was 
not  yet  eiFaced.  The  proud  stand  made  by  one  state 
in  its  youth  and  vigour,  against  the  common  enemy  of 
all  Greece,  remained  in  all  the  glory  of  heroic  renown ; 
oven  the  jealous  Spartans  respected  the  declining  and 
tottering  state  of  that  city  that  had  once  stood  forth 
alone  as  the  champion  against  the  Persian  invader. 
Dissatisfied  and  disappointed,  the  Corinthians  gradually 
began  to  forsake  their  Spartan  allies,  and  even  became 
creatures  of  the  Persian  satrap,  Tithraustes,  whose 
sovereign  was  then  at  war  with  Sparta. 

After  the  defeat  they  sustained  at  the  battle  of 
Coronea,  the  aristocracy,  pressed  by  the  diflSculties 
which  surrounded  them  at  home  and  abroad,  began 
to  think  of  deserting  the  Boeotians,  Argives,  and 
Athenians,  and  again  uniting  themselves  to  their  old 
associates.  But  this  oft-attempted  trimming  in  policy 
proved  a  signal  failure.  The  confederate  states, 
already  smarting  under  the  consequences  of  defeat, 
and  dreading  the  detachment  of  so  important  an  ally, 
incited  the  leaders  of  the  democratic  party  to  massacre 
the  aristocracy  of  Corinth.  As  the  Danes  were  mur- 
dered on  the  festival  of  St.  Brice,  so  were  the  noblest 
and  best  inhabitants  of  Corinth  slaughtered,  while 
unarmed  and  defenceless,  during  a  day  of  public 
festivity ;  some  sought  safety  in  flight,  but  the  demo- 
cratic party  remained  in  the  ascendant,  and  resolved 
upon  uniting  Corinth  to  Argos,  so  as  to  form  but  one 
state.  Struggle  upon  struggle  followed,  and  found 
the  Corinthians  alternately  worsted  and  victorious, 
until,   harassed    by  the    protracted    conflict   of    the 


890 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  TIIK   WORLD. 


Boeotian  war,  thoy  made  a  separate  treaty  with  the 
Thebans,  dismissing  their  Athenian  allies. 

I  have  not  space  to  detail  the  various  circumstances 
that  intervened  between  this  porioil  and  the  sacking  of 
Corinth,  under  Lucius  Muramius.  This  successful 
general,  who  had  worked  his  way  to  honours  from  an 
humble  station,  was  much  more  capable  of  beatintr  the 
enemy  than  taking  care  of  the  spoils.  If  we  may 
believe  Velleius,  Mummius  was  so  little  acquainted 
with  the  value  of  the  treasures  he  was  about  to  trans- 
port to  Rome,  that  he  warned  the  carriers  that  "  if  they 
lost  or  injured  the  pictures  and  statues,  they  should 
be  compelled  to  furnish  new  ones  !"  Mr.  Ileidolbcrfr, 
in  the  *'  Clandestine  Marriage,"  could  hardly  have 
formed  a  more  enlightened  view  of  the  value  of 
antiquities.  Strabo  goes  even  further,  asserting  that 
the  finest  paintings  were  strewn  heedlessly  on  the 
ground,  and  used  by  the  soldiers  as  dice  or  drauo'ht 
boards.  The  male  inhabitants  were  put  to  the  sword, 
the  women  and  children  sold  as  captives,  and  Corinth 
became  a  scene  of  ruin  and  desolation  rarely  surpassed 
in  the  saddest  annals  of  human  history. 

Corinth  was  destined  to  revive  again,  but  not  as  a 
Grecian  city.  It  served  as  the  scat  of  Roman  govern- 
ment for  southern  Greece,  now  called  the  province  of 
Achaia.  In  the  time  of  Pausanias,  as  we  have  already 
stated,  its  inhabitants  had  wholly  lost  their  Grecian 
character.  This  modern  city,  moreover,  has,  in  recent 
times,  suffered  so  much  from  the  hands  of  the  Turks, 
who  have  alternately  possessed  and  lost  it,  that  it 
presents  few  indications  of  an  even  comparative  anti- 
quarian interest,  as  the  following  description,  from  the 


liih 


CORINTH. 


808 


pen  of  an  eye-witness  and  scholaf  of  the  highest  cha- 
racter, will  attest : — 

"  There  are  few  romains  of  antiquity  now  surviving 
at  Corinth.     The  Temple  of  Minerva,  of  which  a  view 
is  annexed,  is  one  of  the  finest.     The  traveller  wh( 
arrives  in  the  modern  village  from  Neuva,  perceives  on 
his  right  hand  five  fluted  columns,  of  a  very  ancient 
date,  which  once  formed  part  of  a  temple.     What  the 
name  of  that  temple  was,  is  a  subject  for  conjecture 
alone.     The  ascent  of  the  hill  of  the  Acrocorinth  is 
steep  and  difficult.    The  first  gate,  which  is  approached 
by  a  drawbridge,  is  flanked  by  an  impregnable  wall  of 
rock  on  the  right,  and  by  artificial  outworks  on  the 
left.     From  this  gate,  a  road  leads  to  a  hill  on  the 
south-west,  in  form  like  a  trmcated  cone,  upon  which 
is  a  fortress :  it  is  called  Pente  Skouphia.     Proceeding 
upwards  towards  the  summit  of  the  Acrocorinth,  we 
enter  a  semicircular  battery,  and  after  seventy  paces 
another  gate,  defended  by  artillery ;  within  it  is  the 
steep,  rocky  fortress  on  the  southern  crest  of  the  Acro- 
corinth.   The  eastern  wall  of  this  enclosure  is  strength- 
ened  by  four  square  towers,  and  the  angles  are  formed 
with  ancient  polygonal  masonry;  after  a  little  more 
than  a  hundred  paces,  we  enter  a  third  gate,  on  the 
right  of  which  is  a  square  tower  of  Pelasgic  archi- 
tecture,  by  which  we  pass  into  the  large  enclosure, 
which   comprehends   in   its  circuit   the  two  northern 
crests  of  the  Acrocorinth,  on  the  eastern  or  higher  of 
which  are  the  remains  of  the  ancient  temple  of  Venus 
on  the  site  of  which  a  mosque  now  stands.     This  large 
enclosure  seems  to  be  comparatively  easy  of  access, 
and  has  been  entered  by  a  besie<.ing  force  along  a  path 


IL 


894 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WO&LD. 


leading  between  the  two  crests,  of  which  we  hare 
spoken;  and  by  a  well-concerted  attack  at  different 
points  might,  perhaps,  be  surprised,  and  could  not 
easily  be  defended,  on  account  of  its  vast  extent.  If 
the  eastern  crest,  which  commands  the  whole  citadel, 
were  walled  into  a  separate  enclosure,  it  would  seem 
almost  impregnable.  The  large  enclosure  resembles  a 
town ;  it  contains  many  houses,  cisterns,  churches,  and 
mosques, — all  which  are  now  in  ruins.  There  is  a 
fountain  in  this  enclosure,  to  the  east  of  the  southern 
crest  of  it ;  it  is  approached  by  a  descent  on  a  subter- 
ranean slope,  which  is  nine  feet  broad,  and  seems  to 
have  been  covered  with  marble  steps.  The  water  is 
contained  in  a  rectangular  basin,  at  the  termination  of 
the  slope :  above  the  water,  the  rock  is  hewn  into  an 
architectural  form,  resembling  the  fagade  of  a  small 
temple :  it  consists  of  a  tympanum,  supported  by  an 
architrave  resting  upon  two  antae,  and  a  pilaster  in  the 
centre  of  them  :  above  the  tympanum  there  is  an  arched 
vault.  On  the  rock,  near  the  water,  are  inscribed  com- 
memorations of  vows  offered  in  ancient  times  in  this 
place,  which  was  probably  known  in  the  earliest  days 
of  Corinth  by  the  name  of  the  fountain  of  Peirene." 

Several  fountains,  however,  bear  this  name,  but 
Wordsworth  thinks  that  the  Peirene,  at  which  the 
winged  horse  Pegasus  was  caught,  while  drinking,  by 
Bellerophon,  was  the  "  source  which  springs  from  the 
rock  on  the  summit  of  the  Acrocorinth,  and  that  it  was 
from  this  high  point  that  he  soared  aloft  into  the  air." 
In  reference  to  the  device  of  the  winged  Pegasus,  so 
often  found  upon  the  coins  of  Corinth  and  her  columns, 
the  same  scholar  elegantly  observes: — "The  mytho- 


<>0«I9TH. 


89ft 


logical  •naX/^  lt*>»ev«i  the  horae  and  the  element  of 
water,— an  analogy  which  shows  itself  in  the  name  of 
Pegasus,  and  which  appears  in  the  activity  of  both  th« 
animal  and  the  element;  each,  in  its  own  manner, 
struggling  to  burst  from  its  confinement,  foaming  with 
restless  fury,  and,  as  it  were,  <  pawing  to  get  free,'  and 
at  other  times  bridled,  whether  by  reins  of  steel  or 
stone,  and  in  the  circumstances  that  they  bolli  are  to 
man  the  means  of  conquering  distance,  and  of  con- 
versing with  things  remote, — may  have  led  to  the 
adoption  of  this  device;  and  the  symbol  upon  these 
coins  was,  perhaps,  intended  to  express  the  national 
sense  entertained  by  Corinth  of  the  advantage  which 
she  enjoyed  in  the  excellence  and  superabundance  of 
her  fresh  water,  an  advantage  not  possessed  in  the 
same  degree  by  any  other  maritime  city  of  Greece." 

A  road  leading  from  the  foot  of  tho  citadel,  and 
winding  towards  the  east  through  low  shrubs  and 
quarries  of  stone,  after  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles, 
brings  us  to  tho  ancient  port  of  Schaenus.  About  a 
mile  short  of  that  place  is  the  site  of  the  sacred  grove 
in  which  the  Isthmian  games  were  celebrated.  The 
only  remains  of  its  ancient  buildings  are  those  of  tho 
stadium  in  the  southern  part  of  the  enclosure,  the  shell 
of  a  theatre  about  300  yards  to  the  north  of  it,  and 
the  foundations  of  the  precinct  which  the  temples  of 
Neptune  and  Palsemon  once  adorned 

When  I  come  to  mention  Elis,  a  few  remarks  will 
be  offered  on  the  political  import  of  the  games,  which, 
as  the  common  meetings  of  the  Greeks,  were  such  im- 
portant means  of  cementitirg  mutual  agreement  and 
good  will,  and  which  united  amusement  of  a  religious 


"^ 


806 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WOULD. 


character  with  tlie  acknowledgement  of  a  political 
union — a  union  which,  IkuI  the  Greeks  known  how  to 
preserve  it,  wouM  have  stayed  the  Macedonian  foe,  and 
presented  a  combined  array  of  strcngtli,  against  which 
no  human  force  could  have  successfully  made  head. 

But  the  mention  of  the  theatrical  buildings  at  Corinth, 
and  the  natural  supjiosition, — (huwn  from  a  knowledge 
of  their  general  character, — that  the  Corinthians  were 
greatly  addicted  to  amusements  of  this  class,  an<l  per- 
haps disposed  to  cultivate  them  with  an  enthusiasm 
rivalling  that  of  the  Alexandiiana,  brings  us  naturally 
to  a  contemplation  of  many  allusions  found  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles.  Doubs  has  been  thrown  upon  the  hypothesis 
that  Paul  was  skilled  in  Gentile  literature, — a  doubt 
that  seems  to  me  conceived  in  the  very  spirit  of  unne- 
cessary scepticism.  Do  the  words  of  St.  Paul  before 
the  Areopagus  convey  the  notions  of  a  Jew,  who  had 
learned  no  other  literature  than  that  of  the  Scriptures  ? 
Is  there  not  a  happy  mixture  of  calm  expostulation  and 
gentle  satire,  which,  while  it  discloses  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  also  proves  that  he  had  studied  and  understood 
the  nature  of  the  false  creed  and  habits  he  was  re- 
futing? To  say  nothing  of  the  obvious  quotations  from 
Pagan  writers  which  appear  in  his  writings,  the  fre- 
quent metaphors  derived  from  Gentile  rites  and  customs 
appear  most  prominently  in  his  writings, — allusions 
well  calculated  to  produce  the  effect  intended  upon  the 
hearers  to  whom  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  Avas  sent. 
Among  these,  numerous  allusions  to  the  games  of 
Greece,  doubtless  suggested  by  the  magnificent  build- 
ings devoted  to  such  purposes,  which  he  had  behold 
during  his-  travels,  deserve  especial  notice.  His  stay 
at  Corinth,  whither  he  had  retired  in  vexation  at  h  s 


CORINTH. 


897 


mdifferont  success  in  tho  work  of  grace  at  Athens, 
doubtless  tended  to  impress  hia  ardent  and  expansive 
mind  with  imagery  the  most  lively,  compsirisons  the 
most  effective.  And  this  was  likewise  due  to  his  early 
residence  at  Tarsus,  "to  which  may  be  traced  tho 
urbanity  which  the  Apostle  at  no  time  laid  aside,  and 
of  which  he  was  frequently  a  perfect  model,  many 
insinuating  turns  which  he  gives  to  his  epistles,  and  a 
more  skilful  use  of  tho  Greek  tongue  than  a  Jew  born 
and  educated  in  Palestine  could  well  have  attained." 

The  church  of  Corinth  early  appears  to  have  been 
tho  prey  of  various  intestine  divisions  which  interfered 
with  the  good  work  of  the  Apostle.  What  these  dis- 
putes really  were,  and  what  were  the  reasons  that  led  to 
them,  or  to  what  consequences  they  led,  we  have  little 
knowledge.  It  is  "remarkable  in  the  Epistles  of  the 
Apostle  Paul,  by  the  variety  of  its  spiritual  gifts,  which 
seem  for  the  time  to  have  eclipsed  or  superseded  the 
office  of  the  elder  or  bishop,  which  in  most  churches 
became  from  the  beginning  so  very  prominent.  Very 
soon,  however,  this  peculiarity  was  lost,  and  the  bishops 
of  Corinth  take  a  place  co-ordinate  to  those  of  other 
capital  cities." 


EtlS, 


^T)  LIS  is,  essentially,  the  Holy  Land 
of  Groeco.     Of  comparatively  little 
importance  in  resources,  or  in  any 
active  part  taken  in  the  grand  field 
of  Grecian  politics,  it  was  a  pleasant 
district,    about    fifty-four    miles   in 
length  from  south  to  north,  but  not 
above  half  that  breadth  in  itr-  broadest  part.     Chief 
among  the  rivers  which,  rising  in  the  mountains   of 
Arcadia,  irrigated  the  fruitful  plains  of  Elis,  was  the 
Alpheus,  on   whoso   banks   the  Olympic  games  wero 
celebrated.     In  this  sacred  land  of  peace,  the  Greek 
nation  assembled  to  celebrate  the  grandest  festival  to 
antiquity,  to  which  the  States  were  invited,  even  in 
time  of  war.     Wachsmuth  thinks  that  the  claims  of 
the  El<!ans  were  not  of  the  early  date  they  asserted. 
"  The  name  and  history  of  the  Olympic  sanctuary  do 
not  begin  historically  till  Iphitus.     From  the  time  of 
the  dissolution  of  the  political  system  of  the  ancient 
Achoeans,  it  seems  to  have  existed  solely  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Pisatans :  it  is  certain  that  before  Iphitup,  the 
games   were   suspended,   according   to   the   traditron, 
from  the  time  of  Oxylus;  but  it  is  a  question  w' '  aer 
Oxylus  at  that  time  ruled  overPisatis;   nevertheless, 
the  account  of  a  consecration  is  not  altogether  unfounded. 


-netsse: 


I    ft  -rr-iae 


ELIS. 


S09 


This  con'pfration  must  bo  e«iKJftlly  rcforrod  to  the 
locality  of  tlio  feast,  and  in  its  most  definite  sense,  to 
the  prove  Alti.><." 

Muicovcr,  luuiion  wcro  c"mp"ll(>d  to  lay  down  their 
arms  b<  foro  they  piisscd  through  tliis  favoured  Innd, 
and  dniing  the  cplcbnition  of  the  feast  to  pay  a  fine. 
Neveithi'luae,  us  Wnchsmnth  rightly  observes,  "it  vas 
almost  a  shamcloss  ansortion  on  tho  part  of  the  Elcana, 
tli.it  they  had  not  borno  arms  before  the  time  of  Philip  ; 
they,  in  fact,  fon^iht  with  advantage  to  themselves  for 
the  sovereignty  of  Pisatis  and  Triphylia,  and  for  their 
common  country  against  tho  Persians."  Ileeren,  who 
takes  a  more  favourable  view  of  the  Eleans  than  his 
countryman,  gives  the  following  idea  of  tho  advantages 
which  occurred  to  Elis  from  tho  Olympic  games  : — 

••  If  thia  privilege  gavo  to  them,  as  it  were,  all  their 
importance  in  tho  eyes  of  the  Greeks  ;  if  their  country 
thr'3  became  the  comtnon  centre ;  if  it  was  the  first  in 
Greece  for  works  of  art,  and  perhaps  for  wealth ;  if 
their  safety,  their  prosperity,  their  fame,  and,  in  some 
measure,  their  existence  ns  an  independent  state,  were 
connected  with  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympus,  and 
its  festivals,  need  we  bo  astonished  if  no  sacrifice 
seemed  to  thoui  ton  great,  by  which  tho  glory  of 
Olympia  was  to  be  increased  ?  Here,  on  the  bankn  of 
the  Alpheus,  stood  the  sactcd  grove,  called  Altis,  of 
olive  and  plane  trees,  surrounded  by  an  enclosure  ;  a 
sanctuary  of  tlie  arts,  such  as  tho  world  has  never  since 
beheld.  For  what  are  all  our  cabinets  and  museums, 
compared  with  this  one  spot  V  Its  centre  was  occupied 
by  the  national  temple  of  the  Greeks,  the  temple  of 
Olympian  Jove,  in  which  was  the  colossal  statue  of 


400 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  TUB  WORLD. 


that  god,  the  masterpiece  of  Phidias.     No  other  work 

of  art  in  antiquity  was  so  generally  acknowledged  to 

have  been  the  first,  even  whilst  all  other  inventions  of 

Grecian  genius  were  still  uninjured  ;  and  need  we  hosi 

tute  to  regard  it  as  the  first  of  all  the  works  of  art, 

of  which  we  have  any  knoAvledge  ?     Besides  this  temple. 

the  grove  contained  those  of  Juno  and  Lucina,  tlie 

theatre  and  the  Prytancum  ;  in  front  of  it,  or  perhaps 

within  its  precincts,  v/as  the  stadium,  together  with  tlie 

race-ground,  or  Ilippodromus.     The  whole  forest  was 

filled  with  monuments  and  statues,  erected  in  honour 

of  gods,  heroes,  and  conquerors.     Pausanias  mentions 

more  than  two  hundred  and  thirty  statues ;   of  Jupiter 

alone  he  describes  twenty-three,  and  these  were,  for  the 

most  part,  works  of  the  first  artists  ;  for  how  could  any 

poor  production  gain  admittance,  where  even  indifferent 

ones  were  despised  ?    Pliny  estimates  the  whole  number 

of  these  statues  in  his  time  at  three  thousand.     To  this 

must  bo  added  the  treasures  which  the  piety  or  the 

vanity  of  so  many  cities,  enumerated  by  Pausanias, 

had  founded  by  their  votive  presents.     It  Avas  with  a 

just  pride  that  the  Grecian  departed  from  Olynipia. 

He  could  say  to  himself  with  truth,  that  he  had  seen 

the  noblest  objects  on  earth,  and  that  these  were  not 

the  works  of  foreigners,  but  the  creation  and  prosperity 

of  his  own  nation." 

But,  great  as  was  the  glory  of  Elis  as  the  centre  of 
peace  and  religion  in  Greece,  few  vestiges  remain  to 
attest  its  renown.  The  reader  will  perhaps  notice  our 
remarks  on  the  destructive  influence  of  vegetation  on 
the  ruins  of  Baal-bek ;  nature  has  been  at  work  with 
an  equally  baleful  effect  around  the  site  of  ancient 


ELIS. 


401 


Elis.     Wo   may  well    conclude   this   notice   with    tho 
remarks  of  Wordsworth  on  the  subject  :— 

''It  is  a  consequence  of  those    natural    properties 
which  conduced  to  its  fertility,  that  so  few  remains  at 
present  survive  of  tho  former  splendour  of  Elis,     The 
soil  consists  of  a  rich   alluvial  loam,  deposited,  in  the 
lower  grounds,  by  tho  rivers ;  and  both  the  stone  of 
the  country  is  of  a  more  porous  description  than  the 
limestone  and  marble  supplied  by  the  quarries  in  other 
parts  of  Greece,  and  tho  remains  of  the  buildings  have 
disappeared  the  sooner  beneath   the   covering  of  soil 
which  was   brought  down   by  the   streams   from    tho 
mountain   slopes.      The   same    observations   may   be 
applied  generally  to  the  other  provinces  of  the  Grecian 
continent  and  peninsula,  upon  which  nature  has  bestowed 
a  larger  share  of  her  endowments.     The  remains  of 
antiquity  are  generally  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  the  fertility 
of  their  soil.     We  believe  that  scarcely  a  sculptured 
group  or  fragment  of  a  frieze  is  to  be  seen  at  the  present 
time  within  the  limits  of  the  district  of  Ilella  most 
distinguished  for  their  prolific  character,  namely,  Thes- 
saly  and  Boeotia  on  the  continent,  and  Achaia  and 
Elis  in  the  Peloponnesus." 


L. 


ROME, 


I  r  it  is  difficult  to  say  a  littlo 
on  the  subject  of  Athenu, 
Home  presents  an  equal  (li». 
advantage  to  the  hlfitoric 
sketcher.  The  gigantic  vol- 
umes of  Pirancsi,  the  volu- 
minous  cycloptcdias  collected 
by  a  Gvievius,  a  Pitiscus,  op 
a  Muratorl,  have  exhausted 
all  the  mingled  appliances 
of  art,  literature,  and  learn- 
ing, upon  the  city  of  the 
Seven  Hills,  and  their  nia. 
terials  have,  in  turn,  fur- 
^  nished  a  host  of  compilers 
vrith  subjects,  the  discussion 
of  each  of  which  has,  in  some  cases,  formed  many  a 
folio. 

What  endless  stories  of  the  Arcadian  life  of  early 
Italy  does  the  Palatine  hill  suggest  to  our  minds! 
Here  was  the  little  cottage  of  Evander,  beneath  the 
humble  roof  of  which,  the  Arcadian  king,  like  soma 
patriarch  of  holier  history,  received  the  jaded  ond 
weather-beaten  Trojans,  as  they  sought  a  new  land, 
that  should  hereafter  inspire  a  Virgil  with  the  most 


L. 


BOMB. 


406 


delicious  description  ever  penned.  On  this  hill,  too, 
were  the  noble  babes  exposed,  who,  miraculously  pre- 
served, became  the  founders  of  a  State  that  was  to 
command  the  world.  At  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
present  forum,  and  just  under  the  Palatine  hill,  stands 
the  church  of  St.  Theodore,  traditionally  said  to  be  the 
temple  afterwards  erected  to  Romulus  by  Tatius.  It  is 
of  a  circular  form,  and  the  brazen  wolf,  commemorating 
the  curious  manner  in  which  the  founders  of  Rome  were 
nurtured,  occupied  a  place  here  till  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. "But  this  last  fact,"  observes  a  visitor,  "is 
surely  of  no  authority  to  demonstrate  this  to  be  the  ori- 
ginal building.  The  roof  is  unquestionably  modern, 
nor  is  there  any  thing  to  a  common  eye  Avhich  bespeaks 
pecuhar  antiquity."  In  Spence's  anecdotes,  however, 
we  find  another  argument  in  its  favour :  he  says,  "  that 
the  Roman  matrons  of  old  used  to  carry  their  children, 
when  ill,  to  the  temple  of  Romulus ;  and  the  women 
still  carry  their  children  to  St.  Theodore  on  the  same 
occasions." 

Such  is  a  slight  specimen  of  the  legendary  associa- 
tions with  which,  even  in  these  days,  the  site  of  the 
ancient  capital  of  the  western  world  is  replete.  It  is 
a  city  of  gods  and  heroes,  and  even  in  its  dirty  streets, 
and  amidst  its  dirtier  population,  some  feeble  concep- 
tions of  its  ancient  nobility  and  magnificence  rise  in 
our  imagination.  Although  the  Tarpcian  rock  haa 
dwindled  away  from  the  precipitous  height  Avhioh  was 
once  fearful  to  contemplate,  still  the  fate  of  "  La  bclla 
Tarpeia,"  as  she  is  still  called  by  the  neighbouring  pea- 
santry, makes  us  think  of  the  faithless  maiden  whose 
death  Propertius  has  so  gracefully  worked  into  the 


406 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


form  of  an  elegy,  or  of  a  Manlius,  whose  fate  might 
serve  as  a  significant  lesson  to  many  a  political  advcn- 
turer  of  modern  times. 

Rome  has  undergone  changes  so  great,  even  previous 
to  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  that  we  can  hardlv 
be  surprised  that  so  few  monuments  appertaining  to 
the  days  of  the  Republic  have  been  handed  down  to  us. 
The  Palatine  hill,  with  the  rude  huts  built  by  the  hardy 
followers  of  Romulus,  was  as  great  a  contrast  to  the 
capitol  when  beautified  and  covered  with  stately  build- 
ings by  Tarquin,  as   its   imperfect   restoration   after 
its  destruction  by  the  Gauls  (a.  u.  365)  presented  to 
its  subsequent  state.     The  capture  of  Corinth  tended  at 
once  to  humanize  the  tastes  of  private  individuals,  and 
to  furnish  the  means  of  gratifying  them.     Gradually, 
the  study  of  Grecian  art  developed  itself  in  the  increased 
splendour  of  private  dwellings  and  public  offices,  just 
as  the  literature  of  Rome  sprang  up  from  the  imitation 
of  the  older  Greeks.     In  fact,  "  we  can  scarcely  fail 
coming  to  this  conclusion,  that  architecture  was  at  a 
very  low  ebb  in  Rome,  when  it  was  at  its  height  in 
Greece,  and  in  the  Grecian  colonies.     The  remains  at 
Athens,  such  as  the  Parthenon,  the  temple  of  Theseus, 
and  the  Propyljsa,  carry  us  back  to  the  time  of  Pericles,' 
which  answers  to  the  year  of  Rome  302.     In  Sicily,  the 
temples  of  Egesta  and  Girgenti  remind  us  of  the  rav-iges 
which  the  Carthaginians  had  inflicted  upon  the  island, 
before  the  Romans  had  a  navy  in  their  ports  to  contend 
with  them.     If  we  come  still  nearer  to  them  in  Magna 
Grajcia,  we  have  the  temple  of  Po^stum,  over  whose 
history  a  veil  of  mystery  is  spread,  through  which  we 
endeavour  to  look  into  those  times  which  are  prior  to 


» 

H 

a 
w 
o 

!> 

o 

> 

o 

o 


408 


ROME. 


existing  records.  But  at  Rome  there  seems  to  have 
been  no  national  genius  which  could  strike  out  such 
magnificent  works;  and  for  mnny  years,  no  national 
taste  which  would  care  to  imitate  them.  A  patriot  in 
the  days  of  Augustus,  if  taunted  upon  this  defect, 
would  probably  have  made  the  rudeness  and  inelegance 
of  his  ancestors  a  topic  of  admiration ;  but  in  comparing 
the  Romans  with  the  Athenians,  we  cannot  deny  that 
the  latter  were  the  most  polished  nation  of  the  two; 
and  as  a  dictator  taken  from  a  plough,  or  a  capitol 
built  of  brick,  does  not  excite  in  us  any  patriotic  feeling, 
we  may,  perhaps,  be  allowed  to  sympathize  more  with 
the  fate  of  Athens  than  of  Rome." 

Although  the  saying  that  "Augustus  found  the 
capitol  of  brick,  and  left  it  of  marble"  is  probably  an 
epigrammatic  exaggeration,  yet  there  is  no  doubt  that 
this  prince,  whose  reign  is  proverbially  associated  with 
Roman  prosperity  in  its  highest  state,  contributed  more 
than  any  of  his  predecessors  to  the  magnificence  which 
made  Rome  the  "  fairest  of  things."  Desiring,  as  we 
do,  to  contemplate  Rome  at  her  highest  pitch  of 
political  glory  and  splendou.-,  let  us  take  a  brief  view 
of  the  times  of  Augustus  Octavianus. 

But,  before  we  proceed  to  this  interesting  subject, 
let  us  bear  in  mind  the  fact,  that  the  Rome  of  Augustus 
had  not  by  any  means  attained  the  architectural  per- 
fection which  it  afterwards  boasted.  The  drunken  folly 
of  a  Nero,  who  rivalled  in  madness  the  incendiary  of 
the  temple  at  Ephesus,  doubtless  destroyed  most  of 
the  principal  buildings,  but  was  perhaps  beneficial  in 
leading  to  more  scientific  arrangements  in  the  recon- 
struction of  the  city.     At  all  times,  Rome  had  been  an 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


409 


object  of  admiration  and  interest.     When  the  barbarian 
Gauls,  who  had,  centuries  before,  forced  its  gates,  and 
penetrated  to  the  forum  where   the   senators  sat  in 
solemn  conclave,  were  awed  by  the  grandeur  which 
even  then  formed  so  great  a  contrast  to  their  own 
rough,  waP''.ering   homes,   well  might   a   Caractacns, 
fresh  from  the  cavern  dwellings  of  our  own  isle,  marvel 
at  the  love  of  conquest  which  could  make  his  humble 
dominions  an  object  of  envy  to  the  possessors  of  a  city 
of  palaces.     Even  the  Greeks,  tutoi-cd  in  a  more  exclu- 
sive school  of  art,  severer  in  their  taste,  and  more 
reserved  in  their  criticisms,  could  not  deny  the  won- 
drous beauty  of  that  city  which  had  proved  so  fatal  to 
their  own  prosperity,    «  Constantius,"  observes  Eustace, 
"a  cold  and  unfeeling  prince,  who  had  visited  all  the 
cities  of  Greece  and  Asia,  and  was  familiar  with  the 
superb  exhibitions  of  Ephesus,  Magnesia,  and  Athens, 
was  struck  dumb  with  admiration  as  he  proceeded  in 
triumphal  pomp   through  the  streets;   but  when  he 
entered  the  forum  of  Trojan,  and  beheld  all  the  won- 
ders of  that  matchless  structure,  he  felt  for  once  a 
momentary  enthusiasm,  and  burst  into  exclamations  of 
surprise  and  astonishment. ' '     Strabo,  who  had  traversed 
Greece  in  every  direction,  and  was  without  doubt  inti 
mately  acquainted  with  all  the  beauties  of  his  countrj 
and,  like  every  other  Greek,  not  a  little  partial  to  it» 
claims  to  pre-eminence,  describes  the  magnificence  of 
Rome  as  an  object  of  transcendant  glory,  that  surpassee^ 
expectation,  and  rose  far  above  all  human  competition 
If  Greeks,  so  jealous  of  the  arts  and  edifices  of  theii 
native  land ;  if  emperors  of  the  east,  who  idolized  thei^ 
own  capital,  and  looked  with  envy  on  the  ornaments  oi 


410 


ROME. 


tho  ancient  city, — wore  thus  obliged  to  pay  an  invo- 
luntary tribute  to  its  superior  beauty,  vre  may  pardon 
the  well-founded  enthusiasm  of  the  Romans  themselves, 
when  they  represent  it  as  the  epitome  of  the  universe, 
and  an  abode  worthy  of  tho  gods.  And,  indeed,  if 
Virgil,  at  a  time  when  Augustus  had  only  begun  his 
projected  improvements,  and  the  architectural  glory  of 
the  city  was  in  its  dawn,  ventured  to  give  it  the  proud 
oppellation  of  rerum  pulcherrima  we  may  conjcetu.-e 
what  it  must  have  been  in  the  reign  of  Hadrian,  wl  <  n 
it  had  received  all  its  decorations,  and  blazed  in  its  fiil' 
meridian  splendour.  Even  in  its  decline,  when  it  Ind 
twice  experienced  barbaric  rw^o,  and  had  seen  some  of 
its  fairest  edifices  sink  in  hostile  flames,  it  wo?  capiilile 
of  exciting  ideas  of  something  more  than  mortal  gran- 
deur, and  raising  the  thoughts  of  a  h(dy  bishop  from 
earth  to  heaven.  After  the  Gothic  war  itself,  which 
gave  the  last  blow  to  the  greatness  of  Rome,  when  it 
had  been  repeatedly  besieged,  taken,  and  ransacked, 
yet  then,  though  itrippcd  of  its  population,  and  aban- 
doned with  its  tottering  temples  to  time  and  desolation ; 
even  then,  deformed  by  barbarism,  wasted  by  pestilence, 
and  bowed  down  to  the  ground  under  the  accumulated 
judgments  of  Heaven,  the  "  Eternal  City"  still  retained 
its  imperial  features,  nor  appeared  less  than  the  mis- 
tress of  the  world. 

It  is  indeed  certain,  that,  although  literature  declined 
rapidly  after  the  time  of  Augustus,  as  well  as  that  the 
Latin  tongue,  by  its  gradual  deterioration  and  admixture 
with  African  words  and  phraseology,  proved  a  corres- 
ponding declension  in  critical  taste,  architecture  still 
flourished,  and  ihe  later  Roman   emperors  displayed 


I 


GIIKAT  CITIKa  OF  Till;  Woi-f.D. 


411 


tlu'ir  zoal  or  attiMtion,  not  only  by  decorating  the 
capital  of  ll.cir  empire,  Init  by  rostorii,^,  rebuilding,  and 
beautifying  tbo  citi.n  of  yVsia  Minor  and  of  the  East. 
Wo  shall  hereafter  recur  to  the  present  state  of  Rome. 
At  prenent,  the  leading  foaturo.s  of  the  Augustan  age 
claim  our  attention, 

Whate\fr  immoralities  may  disgrace  the  memory  of 
this  prince,  he  «tandH  out  as  the  patron  of  literature 
and  art,  and  as  a  kind  friend  and  companion  in  private 
life.  Loving  literature  for  its  own  sake,  his  patronage 
of  Virgil  and  Horace  was  not  a  mere  display  for 
ostentation's  sake,  but  a  rational  enjoyment  of  the 
socK'ty  of  those  who  were  most  capable  of  making  the 
private  hours  of  a  prince  agreeable.  Micccnas,  a  man 
of  equally  mixed  cliarr.cter  with  his  royal  master,  was 
an  excellent  "introducer"  of  such  companions,  and  to 
mm  must  much  of  the  humanizing  influence  of  these 
most  popular  of  poets  be  ascribed. 

But  the  literature  of  tliis  ago,  and   of  the  period 
iramo<hatoly  preceding  it,  cannot  be  regarded  as  original 
in  any  sense  of  the   word.     The   Romans   had   long 
benefited  by  the  thoughts  of  the  Athenian  sages  and 
poets      Even  the  prefaces  of  Cicero  to  his  philosophical 
works  teemed  with  allusions  to  the  works  of  those  wise 
rfien  to  whoso  instruction  ho  had  committed   his  son 
Marcus;   while    his    pleasing,    but   not    often    sound 
reasonings    have    been    amusingly    characterized    as 
"Plato  and  water."     Julius   Ccsar'a   Commentaries, 
on  the  contrary,  which  were  never  intended  to  take  the 
place  of  a  regular  history,  are  distinguished  by  a  simple 
elegance  of  language  that  equals  the  choicest  Latinity 
of  Cicevo,  as  well  as  by  an  original  naivete  of  style, 


412 


ROME. 


which   shows  his  genuine  enjoyment  of  a  subject  in 
which  he  had  borne  so  conspicuous  a  part. 

By  the  poets  of  this  time,  though  they  had  for  the  most 
part  cast  off  the  rough  Latinity  in  which  Pacuvius  and 
Ennius,  and  subsequently,  but  in  a  more  softened  form, 
Catullus  and  Lucretius,  had  written,  metrical  rules  were 
adhered  to  with  more  strictness,  harmony  of  rhythm 
and  cadence  more  studied,  than  before.  But  still,  all 
was  imitation  of  the  Greeks.  Do  we  admire  the  Eclogues 
of  Virgil  ?  What  is  there  but  Theocritus,  the  Syracuaan 
bucolist,  pruned,  it  is  true,  of  much  indelicacy,  and 
oftentimes  expanded  with  singular  felicity  of  treatment 
and  design.  Again,  the  JEneid  is  but  a  cento  of  the 
best  passages  of  Homer  and  ApoUonius,  blent  with 
singular  felicity  into  one  narrative,  heightened  by  all 
the  charms  of  language,  and  by  a  delicacy  of  pathos, 
in  which  Virgil  stood  pre-eminent.  The  Gcorgics 
possess  more  claims  to  originality,  as  far  as  their 
richness  in  allusions  purely  Italian  go,  but  here,  too, 
Hesiod,  Aratus,  and  Nicandcr  cross  our  path.  Equally 
dependent  upon  the  Greeks  are  the  minor  poets  of  this 
period  :  in  short,  it  is  an  age  in  which  luxury  has 
chastened  and  refined  taste,  while  it  has  destroyed 
originality. 

The  progress  of  the  arts  was  on  a  steady  advance. 
Even  the  atrocious  peculations  and  violence  of  a  Verrcs 
had  been  useful  in  raising  the  standard  of  taste,  and  it 
furnishes  the  best  objects  for  its  employment.  Archi- 
tecture, painting,  and  sculpture,  all  throve  rapidly,  and 
Rome  vied  with  its  luxurious  Pompeian  neighbours  in 
the  elegance  of  her  palaces  and  private  dwellings, 
while  her  dilletanti  vied  with  one  another  in  collecting 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


41  n 


the  choicest  rar  tics  from  every  clime.     Peace  through 
out  the  greater  part  of  the  world  favoured  this  happy 
Btato  of  things,  and  the  «' golden  ago"  truly  seemed  to 
have  returned  under  the  miid  dominion  of  Augustus. 
But  as  literature  fell,  so  did  architecture  improve  at 
Rome;  and  when  the  feeble  writings  of  an  Antoninus, 
or  the  heavy,  powerless  compositions  of  the  "writers 
of  the  Augustan  history,"  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
nervous,  manly  language  of  a  Tacitus,  the  rage   for 
building  went  on  as  hotly  as  over.     In  fact,  an  almost 
morbid  taste  for  rearing  vast  edifices,  and  for  building 
over  tracts  which  before  scarcely  possessed  a  single 
inhabitant,   is  sometimes   a  witness   of   approaching 
downfall.     It  was  so  with  Rome.     Attentive   to  tho 
beautifying  of  cities,  sometimes  too  remote  to  be  faith- 
ful allies,  she  sapped  her  own  domestic  strength ;  and 
by  spreading  her  resources  too  widely  apart  from  each 
other,  crippled  the  strength  that  had  been  accumulated 
by  the  persevering  labours  and  untiring  energy  of  the 
great  men  of  so  many  centuries.  A  prey  to  disaffection 
at  home,   and  to  the  incursions  of  an   overwhelming 
horde  of  barbarians  from  without,  ancient  Rome  fell. 
To  its  present  degraded  state,  we  shall  briefly  advert 
in  our  concluding  remarks. 

Let  us  now  take  a  slight  view  of  the  forum,  tho  grand 
scene  of  the  struggles  of  a  people  for  a  liberty  they 
could  so  readily  lose  in  tho  former  scene  of  their  victory ; 
the  place  where  a  Virginius  had  sacrificed  his  child  to 
preserve  her  honour,  and  where  the  corpse  of  Caesar 
had  been  made  to  preach  a  mute  sermon  that  extin- 
guished the  last  breath  of  expiring  freedom.  Let  us 
think  of  it,  when  palaces  and  temples  reared  themselves 


1 ._ 


ROMK. 


415 


one  above  another,  and  seemed  to  blend  their  marble 
fagades  with  the  warm  Italian  sky  that  encompaEsed 
80  delicious  a  picture. 

It  lay  between  the  Capitoline  and   Palatine  hills; 
it  was  eight  hundred  feet  wide,  and  adorned  on  all 
sides  with  porticos,  shops,  and  other  edifices ;  on  the 
erection  of  which  immense  sums  had  been  expended, 
and   the   appearance   of  which   was    very  imposing, 
especially  as    it  was   much   enhanced   by  numerous 
statues.     What  emotions  must  have  been  raised  within 
the  minds  of  the  people  on  gazing  at  these  statues ! 
How  many  grudges,   how    much    strife,   how  much 
pleasure  was  awakened  to  recollection  by  their  presence ; 
connected  aa  they  were  with  all  the  ancient  tales  the 
priests  disseminated,  the  patricians  derided,  and  the 
plebs   believed.     What  must  be  the  feelings  of  the 
modern  traveller  who  gazes  on  the  relics  left  of  this 
busy  mart  and  throng  of  men !     In  the  middle  was  the 
mysterious  plain  called  the  Curtian  Lake,  into  which, 
when  it  gaped  for  a  victim,  Curtius,  as  the  old  fable 
related,  plunged  full  armed,  to  avert  the  fate  impending 
over  Rome.     What  a  shout  his  countrymen  sent  up  to 
Jove,  as  the  yawning  gulf,  appeased  by  the  sacrifice 
of  the  bravest  man  of  Ron»,  closed  for  ever.     On  one 
side  were  the  elevated  seats  from  which  the  orators 
addressed  their  energetic  appeals  to  the  Romans,  and 
the  magistrates  their  "wise  saws  and  modern  instances." 
These  benches  or  pulpits  were  called  Rostra,  because 
they  were  decorated  with  the  beaks  of  the  vessels  taken 
in  a  naval  engagement  with  the  inhabitants  of  Antium. 
In  the  vicinity  was  situated  that  portion  of  the  forum, 
named  the  Comitium,  where  the  assemblies  of  th« 


li::-=r-r:: 


— -'"  — -Ifl 


416 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


people,  called  Comrtia  Curiata,  were  held.  In  the 
direction  of  the  Via  Sacra,  stood  the  temple  of  Anto- 
ninus and  Faustina,  and  that  mentioned  already  under 
the  name  of  the  Church  of  St.  Theodore,  (in<l  tliwn 
known  as  the  temple  of  Romulus  and  llenmB.  Farther 
on,  also,  on  the  left  hand,  was  the  temple  of  Pe«ce, 
and  the  arch  of  Titus,  "  both,"  as  Wood  ob«crv<'», 
*'  monuments  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem."  Farther 
still,  rises  tlic  glorious  fragments  of  the  yet  8t»tdy 
Colosseum,  grander,  perhaps,  in  its  desolation  than 
when  Rome  boasted  its  most  glorious  era. 

On  the  hill,  the  highest  of  the  seven,  stood  tho 
Capitol,  the  centre  of  the  wishes  and  the  hogpen  of 
Rome.      The   ascent   to  this   mighty   fortresH-tcntple 
was  by  a  flight  of  a  hundred  steps.     It  wa»  at  once 
the  oldest,  largest,  and  grandest  building  in  the  dty. 
It  extended  for  two  hundred  fe«t  on  each  side,  a»  it 
was  square  in  form.     Its  gates  were  of  brass,  and  it 
was  adorned  with  costly  gildings.     The  walls  enclosed 
three   principal   structures.     The   temple   of   Jupiter 
Capitolinus  in  the  centre,  the  temple  of  Juno  on  the 
left,  and  the  temple  of  Minerva  on  the  right.    Some 
small    chapels   were   also    comprehended    within  the 
boundaries  of  the  buildings,  and  also  the  Casa  Romuli, 
or  cottage  of  Romulus, — the  thatch-covered  building 
to  which  the  superstitious  mob  of  Rome  looked  wp 
with  so  much  respect  and  admiration.     The  Basilicsc 
of  which  we  shall  speak  hereafter,  were  also  in  this 
neighbourhood.     Ascending  the  Palatine,  wo  patMe  at 
the  ruins  of  the  palaces  of  the  Csesars. 

"  The  long  vaults,  where  a  partial  destruction  admit* 
a  gleam  of  daylight  to  their  deep  recesses ;  th«  terraee*, 


J 


Which  sectn  to  bid  defiance  to  time;  the  hal    domes, 
and  solid  p.ers,  attesting  the  grandeur  of  their  ancieh 
conatruction;    the    walls   fringed    with    shrubs,   prin- 
cipally  evergreen ;   the    very   intricacy   of  the   plan, 
and    the   mixture   of  kitchen-gardens   and    vineyard, 
uhere  once  the  voice  of  harmony  resounded  through 
0  ty  halls  decor  ted  with  the  finest  productions  of 
art;  a  1   impress   the   mind   with   the  recollection  of 
past  glory. 

The  view  from  the  Palatine  is  interesting,  and  the 
Fo.poct  vanod.     Many  of  the  principal  buildings  are 
to    be    «eon    from    th.s    point.     Below    the   mount,   is 
the   te..,plc    .f  Romulus;  farther   left,  h  that   conse- 
crated to  Vesta;  between  both,  was  the  arch  of  Janus  • 
n^     he   immediate    neighbourhood  was   the  temple  of' 
Castor  and  Pollux;  and  not  very  far  distant,  that  of 
Apollo.     "All   these   names,"   observes   Wood,    "and 
almost  every  inch  of  ground  is  disputed  by  the  Roman 
uMtuiuar.es;  but  about  sr.ch  dissensions  the  imagination 
docs  not  trouble  herself."     In  fact,  as  1  have  already 
observed  m  reference  to  ancient  Roman  legends,  we 
find  too  much  pleasure  in  believing,  to  wish  to  give  way 
to  the  skepticism  even  of  a  Niebuhr.     Besides,  it  has 
been   well   remarked    by  Burton,    "if  we   must  have 
visible  objects  on  which  to  fix  our  attention,  we  have 
the  ground  itself  on  which  the  Romans  trod;  we  have 
Uie  Seven  Hills;  we  have  the  Campus  Martins;  the 
^orum  ;  all  places  familiar  to  us  from  history,  and  in 
which   we  can   assign   the   precise   spot   where  some 
memorable  action  was  performed.     Those  who  feel  a 
gratification  in  placing  their  footsteps  where  Cicero  or 
Caesar  did  before  them  in  the  consciousness  of  standing 


418 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


upon  tho  same  hill  whicli  Manliua  defended,  and  in  all 
those  associations  which  bring  the  actors  themselves 
upon  the  scene,  may  have  nil  their  enthusiasm  satisfied, 
and  need  not  complain  that  there  arc  no  monuments 
of  the  Republic.  Rome  is,  indeed,  a  melancholy  wreck 
of  what  it  was ;  but  the  circuit  of  the  walls,  being  tlio 
same  at  this  moment  as  in  the  time  of  tho  Emperor 
Aurelian,  v/e  have  so  far  a  point  of  connection  between 
former  times  and  our  own ;  and  what  is  wanting  in 
many  ancient  cities, — we  can  positively  identify  tlic 
limits  Avhioh  it  occupied.  Diit  in  Home  we  can  do 
more :  from  the  records  of  history,  we  can  trace  tho 
gradual  increase  of  the  city  from  the  time  Avhcn 
Romulus  had  his  cottage  on  the  Capitol,  to  the  final 
extension  of  the  walls  by  Aurelian. 

I  have  now  to  crave  my  reader's  attention  on  a 
painful  subject.  Whatever  may  be  the  anxiety  of  the 
Christian  on  behalf  of  the  Jews,  who  to  this  day  per- 
sist in  withholding  their  belief  in  Ilim  whom  their 
forefathers  crucified,  and  dispiriting  as  is  the  compa- 
ratively small  success  of  the  attempts  made  for  their 
conversion,  the  state  of  Papal  Rome  is  a  subject  fraught 
with  a  no  less  painful  interest.  It  is  fearful  to  contem- 
plate the  degraded  condition  of  the  lazzaroni  of  modern 
Italy,  and,  in  their  listless  and  profiigate  lounging,  to 
read  the  demoralizing  influence  of  Popery.  Lior"itious 
indifference  to  the  duties  of  common  life  are  ill-atoned 
by  the  purchased  pardon  or  indulgence  of  a  priest; 
little  does  the  pomp  and  luxury  of  the  Papnl  proces- 
sions agree  with  the  characteristics  of  the  "fisherman's 
eon."  Yet  there  is  a  stern  vitality  in  Romanism  that 
mocks  our  understanding,  although  we  cannot  deny  its 


ROME. 


419 


existence.  Romanism  is  a  riddle,  the  interpretation  of 
which  lies  but  too  deeply  in  the  dark  passions  and 
most  inward  failings  of  mankind.  Yet  does  not  the 
fact,  that  the  Papal  authority  is  to  this  hour  supported 
by  the  soldiery  of  a  neighbouring  nation,  little  remark- 
able for  its  religious  or  believing  tendency,  sadly 
satirise  the  assumption  of  the  keys  of  heaven  and 
earth  by  a  so-called  prince,  who  cannot  retain  the 
keys  of  his  ovrn  city?  It  is  for  God  alone  to  decree 
and  bring  about  the  great  change  that  shall  substitute 
healthful  employment  for  almsgiving,  the  Bible  for 
the  breviary,  and  the  Gospel  for  tradition.  God  send 
the  day  be  not  far  oflf! 

Superstition  took  its  birth  from  Rome,  and  stoutly 
has  Rome  nurtured  the  sturdy  bantling  that  is  now 
sapping  her  vitals,  and  consuming  her  population  with 
the  'disease  of  sloth  and  ignorance.     Relics  the  most 
apocryphal,  traditions  the  most  extravagant,  take  their 
stand  by  the  side  of  the  saints  of  the  New  Testament 
and  the  inspired  word  of  the  Almighty.     The  dome  of 
St.  Peter's  rears  its  head  proudly  above  every  sur- 
rounding structure,  and  claims  for  itself  that  pre-emi- 
nence which  the  Apostle  disclaimed.     How  unmeaning 
is  such  a  conception  of  Peter's  character  !  How  utterly 
at  variance  with  Scripture,  or  with  the  simplest  evi- 
dence drawn  from  a  knowledge  of  human  nature !     To 
this  day  it  is  a  matter  of  uncertain  tradition  whether 
St.  Peter  ever  was  at  Rome  at  all ;  and  surely,  had 
such  an  idea  as  Papal  supremacy  ever  formed  a  part 
of  the  Christian  dispensation,  it  would  have  been  esta- 
blished on  a  safer  and  sounder  footing  than  on  the 
doubtful  interpretation  of  a  single  text  of  Scripture. 


^  • 

H 

■A'' 

A::-./?. 

■J 

'    li 

IcSv 

■4' 

■4 

■■■m 

]-i 

^'k 

420 


OUEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Eustace,  describing  the  Basilica  of  St.  Peter  has  tha 
following  pertinent  remarks : — 

"  The  Basilica  of  St.  Peter  was  the  first  and  noblest 
religious  edifice  erected  by  Constantine.  It  stood  on 
part  of  the  circus  of  Nero,  and  was  supposed  to  occupy 
a  spot  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  numberless  martyrs, 
exposed  or  slaughtered  in  that  place  of  public  amuse- 
ment by  order  of  the  tyrant.  But  its  principal  and 
exclusive  advantage  was  the  possession  of  the  body  of 
St.  Peter, — a  circumstance  which  raised  it  in  credit 
and  consideration  above  the  Basilica  Lateranensis ; 
dignified  its  threshold  with  the  honourable  appellation 
of  the  Limina  Apostolorura,  or  the  Threshold  of  the 
Apostles ;  and  secured  to  it  the  first  place  in  the  affec- 
tion and  reverence  of  the  Christian  world.  Not  only 
monks  and  bishops,  but  princes  and  emperors  visited  its 
sanctuary  with  devotion,  and  even  kissed,  as  they 
approach«?d,  the  marble  steps  that  led  to  its  portal. 
Nor  was  this  reference  confined  to  the  orthodox  mon- 
archs  who  sat  on  the  throne  of  its  founder  j  it  extended 
to  barbarians,  and  more  than  once  converted  a  cruel 
invader  into  a  suppliant  votary.  The  Vandal  Genseiic, 
whose  heart  seldom  felt  emotions  of  mercy  while  he 
plundered  every  bouse  and  tempk  with  unrelenting 
fury,  spared  the  treasures  deposited  under  the  roof  of 
the  Vatican  Basilica,  and  even  allowed  the  plate  of  the 
churches  to  be  carried  in  solemn  pomp  to  its  inriolable 
altars.  Totila,  who  in  a  moment  of  vengeance  hud 
sworn  that  he  would  bory  the  glory  and  the  memory 
of  Rome  in  its  ashes,  listened  to  the  admonitions  of  the 
pontiff,  and  resigned  his  fary  at  the  tomb  of  the 
apostles. 


r 


BARLY  CHRISTIAN  MARTYRS  EXPOSED  TO  WILD 
BEASTS  IN  THE   CIRCUS. 


422 


ROME. 


"  Every  age,  as  it  passed  over  the  Vatican,  seemed 
to  add  to  its  holiness  and  dignity ;  and  the  coronation 
of  an  emperor,  or  the  installation  of  a  pope,  the  depo- 
sition of  the  remains  of  a  prince,  or  the  enshrinement 
of  the  reliques  of  a  saint,  appeared  as  so  many  new 
claims  to  the  veneration  of  the  Christian  world,  At 
length,  however,  after  eleven  centuries  of  glory,  the 
walls  of  the  ancient  Basilica  began  to  give  way,  and 
symptoms  of  approaching  ruin  were  become  so  visible 
about  the  year  1450,  that  Nicholas  V.  conceived  the 
project  of  taking  down  the  old  church,  and  erecting  in 
its  stead  a  new  and  more  extensive  structure." 

I  have  too  little  taste  for  the  bitterness  of  religious 
controversy  to  enter  farther  into  the  history  of  St. 
Peter's  at  Kome,  or  to  desire  to  dwell  upon  the  corrup- 
tions with  which  Romanism  stands  attainted.     Let  all 
sects  find  that  there  are  certain  common  principles  of 
Christianity,  from  which  no  one  may  swerve ;  let  them 
agree  on  those  points,  and  true  Catholicism  and  liberty 
of  conscience  will  reign  together.     But  for  the  ipse 
dixit  of  Papal  power,  Christendom   is  no  longer  the 
field.     Neander  has  well  proved  « that  the  idea  of  the 
primacy  of  St.  Peter  rested  on  nothing  but  a  misunder- 
standing both  of  the  position  which  had  been  assigned 
him  in  the  progressive  movement  of  the  Church,  as 
also  of  the  particular  titles  which  were  given  to  him." 
Popery  is  a  splendid  religious  mistake,  and  a  fatal  one, 
because  destitute   of  the  inestimable   elements   of  a 
healthy  and  moderate  tendency  to  self-reformatioo 


ttAfiOHtt  : 


CONSTANTINOPLE. 


ONSTANTINOPLE,  the  capital  of  Tur- 
key, is  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
famous  cities  in  Europe.  It  is  called 
by  the  Oriental  nations  Constantia,  by 
the  Turks,  Istamboul,  (that  is,  "into 
the  city,")  by  the  Wallachians  and 
Bulgarians,  Zaregrad  (royal  city).  The 
ancients  called  the  city  that  stood  upon 
the  same  site,  Byzantium.  Constantine  the  Great 
built  Constantinople  for  a  capital,  consecrating  it  in 
the  year  330.  From  that  time  until  1453,  the  city 
was  the  residence  of  the  Emperors  of  the  East,  who 
adorned  it  with  the  most  magnificent  edifices.  The 
inhabitants  were  distinguished  for  luxvy  and  refinement. 


L= 


CONST'iNTINOPLE. 


425 


The  spoils  of  half  the  world  enriclicil  this  irreat  capital. 
In  1453  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks,  who  have 
held  it  ever  since.  The  city  has  been  besieged  211 
times,  but  taken  only  6,  viz.  :— by  Alcibiades,  Severus, 
Constantino,  Dandolo,  Michael  Palteologus,  and  Moham- 
med II. 

Constantinople  lies  in  the  province  of  Roumelin,  on 
the  sea  of  M,'.rmora,  and  ut  the  south-western  opening 
of  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  which  separates  Europe 
from  Asia.  The  harbour  is  larj.'e  and  safe.  The 
interior  of  the  city  but  ill  corresponds  with  its  noble 
amphitheatrical  site  and  the  8i)lcndour  of  its  mosques 
and  palaces.  The  streets  are  generally  narrow,  dirty, 
and  steep ;  the  houses  for  the  most  part  low,  and  built 
of  mud  and  wood.  The  great  mass  of  the  inhabitants 
are  Turks.  Trade  is  chiefly  carried  on  by  the  Greeks, 
Jews,  and  Armenians. 

The  Turks,  or  Toorks,  are  a  numerous  race,  whose 
original  seat  was  in  the  high  central  regions  of  Tartary, 
to  the  north  and  east  of  the  Jaxartes,  and  along  the 
borders  of  the  Altai.  Their  large  and  handsome 
persons,  and  their  fair  and  ruddy  complexions,  distin- 
guish them  from  the  meagre,  diminutive,  and  almost 
deformed  aspect  of  the  Mongols,  the  other  ruling 
Tartar  race.  In  the  tenth  century,  having  subdued 
all  their  neighbours,  they  were  attracted  by  the  rich 
and  beautiful  regions  of  the  south,  and  poured  down 
through  Khorassan  into  Persia. 

The  princes  of  the  Seljuk  dynasty  had,  at  the  above 
period,  established  full  sway  over  Persia.  Thence  they 
crossed  the  Euphrates,  to  attack  the  weakened  power 
of  the  Greek  empire  and  the  Saracen  princes.     They 


426 


GRKAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WOULD. 


were  triuiiijiluint ;  and  established  in  Asia  Elinor  what 
wus  uallftl  the  kingdom  of  Ileum,  while  other  chiefs 
over-i'im  Syria  and  the  Holy  Land.  At  thi«  time  the 
whole  of  Western  Asia  was  subject  to  Turkish  dynastii  s. 
But  their  fall  was  preparing.  The  outrages,  of  which 
their  rude  bands  were  guilty,  formed  one  of  the  chief 
motives  which  impelled  the  European  powers  to  the 
great  enterprise  of  the  crusades.  The  Latin  nations 
poured  in  with  a  force  which  the  Turks  were  unable  to 
withstand;  and  the  thrones  of  Jerusalem  and  Iconium 
were  speedily  subverted.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Mongols,  under  Zinghis,  having  achieved  the  subjugation 
of  Tartary,  followed  the  traces  of  the  Turks,  wrested 
from  them  Persia,  and  subverted  the  caliphate.  At 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  once  proud 
dynasties  of  Seljuk  were  reduced  to  a  number  of 
scattered  chieftains,  occupying  the  mountainous  districts 
and  high  plains  of  Asia  Minor,  and  obliged  to  own  the 
supremacy  of  the  Mongol  khans  of  Persia. 

Othman,  or  Ottoman,  one  of  their  chiefs,  was  the 
man  who,  in  1299,  erecting  an  independent  standard, 
founded  the  mighty  Ottoman  empire.  IIo  appeared 
first  under  the  aspect  of  a  Scythian  chief,  a  leader  of 
shepherds  and  bandits  ;  but  first  conquering  and  then 
uniting  under  his  standard  a  number  of  neighbouring 
tribes,  he  assembled  a  formidable  military  force.  His 
successor,  Urchan,  having  taken  Prusa,  erected  it  into 
a  capita],  which  almost  defied  the  imperial  metropolis 
Constantinople.  His  successors  continually  augmented 
their  force  by  the  peculiar  institutions  under  which 
they  trained  to  arms  the  captive  youth  of  the  con- 
quered countries.    They  continued  to  make  acquisitiona 


r 


CONSTANTINOPLE. 


427 


from  tho  decrcpid  (ircek  enipiro,  until  the  walls  of 
Constantinople  enclosed  all  that  remained  of  tho 
dominion  of  the  (Jjesars. 

Tile  Tuiki.sh  empiio  was  raised  to  its  greatest  height 
hy  tlie  captuic  of  Constantinople,  in  1453,  by  Mahomet 
II.  The  power  of  tlie  Turks  now  struck  terror  into 
all  Europe.  In  tho  succeeding  century  they  subdued 
Egypt,  the  Barbary  States,  and  all  the  Arabian  coast 
on  the  Red  Sea.  In  Eurcjpe  thoy  rendered  tributary  tho 
Crimea  and  the  countries  along  the  Danube;  they 
over-ran  Hungary  and  Transylvania,  and  repeatedly 
laid  siege  to  Vienna.  When  affairs  came  to  that  crisis, 
however,  tho  European  states  took  tho  alarm,  and  all 
tho  princes  of  Poland  and  Germany  united  against  the 
invader,  who  was  repeatedly  driven  back  with  prodigious 
loss.  At  sea,  notwithstanding  the  gallant  resistance 
of  the  Venetians  and  the  knights  of  St.  Joati,  the 
Turks  long  carried  all  before  them:  they  subdued 
Rhodes,  Cyprus,  and  all  the  Greek  islands ;  and  it  v^as 
only  at  the  little  rock  <.f  Malta  that  their  progress 
received  a  check. 

The  decline  ot  ihe  Ottoman  power  was  perceptible 
in  the  course  of  tho  seventeenth  century  and  proceeded 
rapidly  in  the  eighuenth.  The  rigour  of  that  discipline 
by  which  th(  y  had  rendered  themselves  so  formidable, 
was  insensibly  relaxed;  the  grand  signior  resigned 
himself  to  the  luxuries  and  indulgences  of  the  seraglio  ; 
and  the  revolts  of  the  pachas  in  every  quarter  distracted 
the  empire.  When  the  European  powers  began  to  make 
war  with  regular  armies,  they  easily  repelled  those 
tumultuary  bands  which  followed  the  Turkish  standard. 
Above  all,  when  Russia  began  to  develope  her  gigautio 


428 


GREAT  CITIES   OF   THE  WORLD. 


energies,  the  star  of  Ottoman  ascendancy  rapidly 
declined.  Defeated  in  every  battle,  losing  several  of 
their  finest  provinces,  and  holding  the  rest  by  a 
precarious  tenure,  the  Turks  ceased  to  be  formidable. 
In  the  last  war,  indeed,  General  Diebitsch  entered 
Adrianople,  and  saw  the  road  to  the  capital  open; 
though  peace  was  then  granted  on  moderate  terma. 
But  Turkey  has  since  undergone  a  still  deeper  humilia- 
tion, having  seen  her  empire  almost  subverted  by  Ibra- 
him, son  to  the  pacha  of  Egypt,  when  she  was  saved 
only  by  the  interposition  of  Russia,  her  mortal  enemy, 
and  obliged  to  sacrifice  Syria  and  Palestine,  two  of  the 
finest  portions  of  her  territory 

Russia  constantly  aims  to  get  possession  of  Con- 
stantinople, which  will  give  her  the  command  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Doubtless,  the  overwhelming  power 
of  the  czar  will  soon  extinguish  the  once  mighty  power 
of  the  Turks  and  render  their  capital  the  chief  em- 
porium of  the  Russian  empire. 

Constantinople  is  annually  visited  by  that  fearful 
scourge,  called  the  plague,  Avhich  carries  off  thousands 
of  the  inhabitants,  and  desolates  whole  sections  of  the 
city.  Yet  in  full  view  of  the  coming  of  the  pesti- 
lence, the  government  adopts  no  precautionary  mea- 
sures, and  individuals  are  just  as  careless.  The  scenes 
in  the  city  during  the  prevalence  of  the  plague  are 
heart-rending.  Families  are  separated  by  inevitable 
necessity,  and  many  are  left  to  die  in  the  streets,  with- 
out attendants. 


cc 


VENICE. 


THE  rise  of  the  commercial  republics  Venice, 
Genoa,  and  Florence  in  the  middle  ages 
was  a  brilliant  era  for  Italy  and  civiliza- 
tion.    Their   voices,   both    for   war   and 
commerce,  covered  the  seas,  and  set  bounds 
to  the  all-grasping  power  of  the  Ottoman, 
which  threatened  to  overwhelm  the  wes- 
tern world.     They  revived  the  learning 
that  had  slumbered  for  ages.     The  remains 
of    Greek   literature   were   surveyed   by 
the  learned  men  vho  fled   before   the   sword   of  the 
Turks.     The  writings  of  the  ancients  were  drawn  from 
the  depths  of  convents,  and  eagerly  studied  and  circu- 
lated.    What  was   of  more    consequence,  a   race   of 
enlightened  princes  and  nobles  arose,  who  sought  glory 
in  patronizing  knowledge,  while  a  general  taste  for  it 
was  diffused  among  a  wealthy  and  refined  community. 
The  arts  of  painting,  architecture  and  music,  on  which 
the  wealth  of  the  noble  citizens  was  lavishly  expended, 
rose  to  an  eminence  equalling,  perhaps,  that  of  the 
ancients : 

Venice  is  situated  on  the  Lagunes  or  Small  Islands, 
about  five  miles  from  the  continent.  It  was  founded 
about  A.  D.  451  or  452;  when  Attila,  having  destroyed 
the  cities  of  Aquilcia,  Verona,  Mantua,  Trevigio,  '&c. 
such  of  the  inhabitants  as  escaped  the  slaughter  fled  to 
the  islands  on  their  coast,  and  there  took  up   their 


480 


9REAT  CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


residence.     Historians  are  profuse  in  their  commenda. 

tions  of  the  virtue  of  the  Venetians  during  the  infancy 

of  their  city.     Nothing  remarkable,  however,  occurs  in 

the  history  of  Venice  for  some  time,  excepting  the 

change  of  government  from  the  consuhir  to  the  tribnnl- 

tial  form,  which  happened  about  thirty  years  after  the 

building  of  the  city.     The  republic  first  began  to  be 

of  consequence  after  the  destruction  of  Padua  by  the 

Lombards.     About  this  time  they  were  become  masters 

of  a  fleet  and  a  body  of  land-forces.     They  engaged  in 

a  quarrel  with  the  Lombards,  and  aoon  after  distin- 

guished  themselves  against  the  Istrian  pirates,  who  had 

committed  depredations  on  their  coasts ;  and  the  Tcr- 

gestines,  or  inhabitants  of  Trieste,  who  had  suddenly 

carried  oflf  a  number  of  the  citizens  of  Venice.     The 

city  very  soon  arrived  at  a  high  pitch  of  affluence  and 

power.     In  the   war    carried    on   by   Justinian  with 

the  Goths  in  Italy,  the  Venetians  gave  conuiderable 

assistance  to  Narses,  the  Roman  general,  who  express^cd 

his  gratitude  by  several  rich  presents,  and  by  building 

two  fine  churches  dedicated  to  the  saints  Theodore  and 

Germinian;   the   oldest    public    buildings,   beside  St. 

Mark's  and  St.  Peter's,  in  Venice.     From  the  time  of 

Justinian  to  a.  d.  697,  historians  are  silent  with  regard 

to  the  Venetian  affairs. 

A  great  revolution  then  took  place  in  the  govern- 
ment: the  tribunes  having  abused  their  power  were 
abolished;  and  in  their  stead  was  elected  a  doge  or 
duke,  in  whom  was  vested  the  supreme  authority.  He 
was  to  represent  the  honour  and  majesty  of  the  state ' 
to  have  respect  and  distinction  paid  him  beyond  vhat 
the  tribunes,  or  even  the  consuls  enjoyed :  he  was  to 


■.s.\ 


VENICE. 


431 


assemble  and  preside  at  the  great  council;  to  have  a 
casting  vote  in  all  disputed  points;  to  nominate  to  all 
offices,  places,  and  preferments ;  and  lastly,  to  enjoy 
the  same  authority  in  the  church  as  in  the  state.    Paul 
Anafestus  Paoluccio  was  the  first  doge.     He  died  in 
717.     This  form  of  government  was  changed  in  737, 
and  a  supreme  magistrate  chosen,  with  the  title  of 
master  of  the  hone,  or  general  of  the  forces.     His 
power  was  to  continue  only  for  a  year,  the  shortness  of 
Its  duration  being  thought  a  security  against  the  abuse 
of  It.     But  m  five  years  afterwards  the  dogoa  were 
restored,  and  John  Fabritio,  the  4th  and  last  nmster 
of  the  horse,  was  deposed,  and  his  eyes  put  out.    Under 
the   s>.-03,    the   power   and   wealth  of  the  Venetian 
re^N-o  continued  to  increase.    In  764  the  Heracieans 
and  Jesulans,  subjects  to  the  republic,  having  formed 
some  designs  against  the  state,  put  thcrnselv^es  under 
the  protection  of  Charlemagne.     That  conqueror  not 
finding  It  convenient  to  give  them  present  assistance, 
settled  them  in  Malamocco,  until  he  could  give  them 
more  effectual  succour.    The  Venetians,  however,  disre- 
garding   the   protection   of    that   powerful   monarch, 
attacked  and  instantly  drove  them  out  of  Malamocco 
Incensed  at  this,  Charlemagne  ordered  his  son  Pepin 
to  declare  war  against  the  republic.     This  was  done; 
but  the  blow  was  for  some  time  diverted  by  Astolphus, 
kmg  of  the  Lombards,  who,  committing  great  devasta- 
tions m  the  territories  of  the  pope,  obliged  l^cpin  to 
come  to  the  assistance  of  his  holiness.     However,  after 
having  afforded  the  necessary  succour  to  the  pope, 
Pepin  prosecuted  the  war  with  Venice.     Upon  which 
the  Venetians  declared  themselves  a  free  and  inde- 


432 


QRKAT  CITIKS  ui-   'lili:  WORLD, 


pendent  state.     But  in  804  the  war  was  renewed  v.'ith 
the  utmost  fury. 

Pepin  having  quarrelled  with  Nicephorus  the  Greek 
emperor,  and  finding  Obelerio  the  Venetian  doge  in- 
clined to  favour  his  adversary,  he  determined  to  exter- 
minate the  very  name  of  the  republic.     After  having 
laid  waste  the  surrounding  province,  he  led  his  army 
directly  to  Venice,  blocking  the  city  up  at-,  the  same  time 
by  his  fleet.    The  Venetians  united,  and  gave  the  chief 
command  to  Valentin,  as  Obeleiio  was  supposed  too 
nearly  allied  to  Pepin  to  fight  with  that  good-will  and 
cheerfulness  the  service  of  his  country  required.     The 
Venetians,  notwithstanding  the  most  obstinate  defence, 
were  at  length  reduced  to  that  part  of  the  city  South 
of  the  Rialto.     While  Pepin  was  preparing  to  lay  a 
bridge  over  the  canal,  they  resolved,  as  a  last  effort,  to 
attack  his  fleet.     Embarking  all  the  troops  they  could 
spare,   they  succeeded   in  driving   the  enemy's   fleet 
aground,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  troops  perished  in 
attempting  to  escape ;  the  ships  were  all,  to  a  few, 
cither  taken  or  destroyed.     During  this  action  at  sea, 
Pepin,  having  thrown  a  bridge  over  the  Rialto,  was 
attacked  on  every  side  by  the  Venetians  from  their 
boats,  and  others  who  had  posted  themselves  on  the 
bridge.     The  battle  was  long,  bloody,  and  doubtful, 
until  the  Venetians  succeeded  in  breaking  down  the 
bridge ;  Avhen  all  communication  being  cut  off"  with  the 
troops  on  shore,   the  French  were  to  a  man  either 
killed   or   drowned.     Pepin   was   so  struck   with  the 
intrepidity  of  the  Venetians,  that  he  raised  the  siege, 
abandoned  the  enterprise,  and  concluded  a  peace  with 
the  republic.     He  afterwards  came  to  Venice  to  inter- 


VENICE. 


433 


ceie  for  Obelevio,  but  the  populace  being  persuaded 
that  he  had  acted  treacherously,  Pepin  waa  no  sooner 
gone  than  they  tore  him  and  his  wife  to  pieces,  though 
she  was  Pepin's  sister. 

In  839,  the  Venetians  engaged  in  an  alliance  offen- 
sive and  defensive  against  the  Saracens  with  Michael 
Iir.  the  Greek  emperor.     A  fleet  of  CO  galleys  was 
immediately  equipped,  who  joined  the  Grecian  fleet  and 
engaged  the  enemy ;  but  during  the  heat  of  the  engage- 
ment, the  Greeks  having  basely  deserted  their  allies, 
the  Venetians  were  so  completely  defeated,  that  scarce 
a  single  vessel  remained  to  carry  the  news  of  their 
misfortune  to  Venice.     This  defeat  threw  the  city  into 
the  utmost  consternation,  as  it  was  not  doubted  that 
the  Saracens  would  immediately  lay  siege  to  the  capi- 
tal ;  instead  of  which  they  turned  their  arms  against 
Aneona,   which   they   pillaged   and   destroyed.     The 
Narentines,   however,    a   piratical   people,   no   sooner 
heard  of  the  defeat  of  the  Venetians,  than  they  laid 
waste  the  coasts  of  Dalmatia,  and  ravaged  the  country 
for  a  considerable  way ;  at  the  same  time  that  the  city 
was  distracted  by  internal  dissensions  and  tumults,  in 
one  of  which  the  doge  was  murdered.     It  was  not  till 
the  year  881  that  the  Venetian  affairs  were  thoroughly 
re-established.     By  the  prudent  and  vigorous  admi- 
nistration of  Orso  Participate  the  power  of  the  Saracens 
was   checked,   the   Narentines   utterly   defeated,   and 
domestic  tranquillity  restored. 

From  this  time  the  republic  continued  to  flourish ; 
and  in  903  her  reputation  for  arras  became  famous  all 
over  the  world  by  a  great  victory  gained  over  the 
Huns,  who  had  invaded  Italy,  defeated  Bercngarius, 


-zc 


434 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


and  threatened  the  country  with  total  destruction. 
For  a  long  time  after,  we  meet  with  no  remarkable 
transactions  in  the  Venetian  history ;  but  in  general 
the  republic  increased  in  wealth  and  power  by  its 
indefatigable  application  to  maritime  affairs  and  to 
commerce.  About  the  year  1040  it  was  ordained  that 
no  prince  should  associate  a  colleague  with  him  in  the 
supreme  power. 

In  1084  the  republic  was  by  the  emperor  of  Constan- 
tinople invested  with  the  sovereignty  of  Dalmatia  and 
Croatia,  which,  however,  had  been  held  long  before  by 
right   of   conquest.      As   soon  as    the   Crusade   was 
preached  up,  the  Venetians  fitted  out  a  fleet  of  200 
sail  against  the  infidels;  but  before  this  ar.T)araent  nas 
in  a  condition  to  put  to  sea,  war  broke  out  with  Pisa. 
The  doge  Vitalis  Michael  took  upon  him  the  command 
of  the  fleet,  when,  after  havinpj  -lefeated  the  Pisans  in 
a  bloody  action  at  sea,  he  stt  sail  for  Smyrna,  and 
from  thence  to  Ascalon,  at  that  time  besieged  by  the 
Christians.     To  his  valour  was  owing  the  conquest  of 
this  city,  as  well  as  those  of  Caipha  and  Tiberias; 
but   before   he   had   time  to   push   his   good   fortune 
further,  he  was  recalled  on  account  of  an  invasion  by 
the  Normans  of  Dalmatia.     Here  he  was  equally  suc- 
cessful:   the  Normans   were   every    whore   defeated; 
and  Michael  returned  home  loadod  with  booty;  but 
died  soon  after  tc  the  grief  of  all  his  subjects.     IIo 
was  succeeded  by  Ordelapho  Falioro,  under  whom  the 
Venetians   assisted   Baldwin   in   the   siege   of  Ptole- 
mais,  and  were  the  chief  instruments  of  its  conquest ; 
and  Baldwin,  in  recompense  for  the  services  of  the 
republic,  invest-ed  her  with  the  sovereignty  of  that  citv, 


1 


.HilTj  in  ■  nr 


436 


VENICE. 


which  he  endowed  with  many  extraordinary  privileges, 
to  render  his  present  more  valuable.  This  good  for 
tune,  however,  was  overbalanced  by  a  rebellion  in 
Dalmatia  and  Croatia. 

The  former  was  reduced ;  but,  in  a  battle  with  tlio 
Croatiana,  the  doge  was  killed,  and  his  army  entirely 
defeated:  by  which  disaster  the  Venetians  were  bo 
much  dispirited,  that  they  made  a  peace  on  the  best 
terms  they  could,  giving  t  j  all  thoughts  of  Croatia  for 
the  time.  Under  the  government  of  Dominico  Michel!, 
who  succeeded  Ordelapho,  the  pope's  nuncio  arrived  at 
Venice,  and  excited  such  a  spirit  of  enthusiasm  among 
all  ranks  and  degrees  of  men,  that  they  strove  whose 
names  should  be  first  enrolled  for  the  holy  war.  The 
doge,  having  fitted  out  a  fleet  of  60  galleys,  sailed 
with  it  to  Joppa,  which  the  Saracens  were  then  besieg- 
ing. The  garrison  was  reduced  to  the  last  extremity, 
when  the  Venetian  fleet  arrived,  surprised  and  defeateil 
that  of  the  enemy  with  great  slaughter;  soon  after 
which  the  Saracens  raised  the  siege  with  precipitation. 
Tyre  was  next  besieged,  and  soon  was  obliged  to 
capitulate;  on  which  occasion,  as  well  as  on  the  taking 
of  Ascalon,  the  Venetians  shared  two-thirds  of  the 
spoils.  But  in  the  mean  time  the  emperor  of  Constan- 
tinople, jealous  of  the  increasing  power  and  wealth  of 
the  republic,  resolved  to  make  an  attack  upon  A^enice, 
now  weakened  by  the  absence  of  the  doge  and  such  a 
powerful  fleet.  But  the  senate,  having  timely  notice 
of  the  emperor's  intentions,  recalled  the  doge,  who 
instantly  obeyed  the  summons.  Stopping  at  Rhoiles, 
in  his  way  home  to  refresh  and  water  the  fleet,  the 
inhabitants  refused  to  fui-nish  him  with  the  necopsaiies 


GREAT  CITIK8  OP  THE  WORLD. 


437 


he  demanded.  Incensed  at  this  denial,  he  levelled 
their  city  with  the  ground ;  and  from  thence  sailing  to 
Chios,  he  laid  waste  and  destroyed  the  country,  carry- 
ing off  the  body  of  St.  Isidore,  in  those  days  accounted 
an  inestimable  treasure.  After  this  he  seized  on  the 
islands  of  Samos,  Lesbos,  Andros,  and  all  those  in  the 
Archipelago  belonging  to  the  emperor;  and  having 
reduced  Zara,  Spolatra,  and  Trahu,  places  in  Dalma- 
tia  which  had  revolted  during  his  absence,  he  returned 
in  triumph  to  Venice,  where  he  was  received  with  great 

joy. 

The  Venetians  now  became  very  formidable  through- 
out all  Europe.    The  Sicilians,  Paduans,  with  the  states 
of  Verona  and  Ferrara,  felt  the  weight  of  their  power ; 
and  in  1173  they  ventured  to  oppose  Frederic  Barba- 
rossa,  emperor  of  Germany.    The  occasion  of  this  quar- 
rel  was,   that  pope  Alexander  had  taken  shelter  in 
Venice  to  avoid  the  resentment  of  Barbarossa,  who  had 
conceived   an   implacable  aversion   against   him,  and 
threatened  destruction  to  their  city  if  they  did  not  give 
him  up.     On  this  terrible  menace,  it  was  agreed  to 
equip  a  fleet  and  repel  the  attacks  of  such  a  formidable 
and  haughty  enemy.     But  before  the  armament  could 
be  prepared,  Otho,  the  emperor's  son,  arrived  before 
the  city  with  a  fleet  of  75  galleys.     The  doge  Sebas- 
tian© Ziani  sailed  out  with  the  few  vessels  he  had  got 
equipped,    to  give  the  enemy  battle.     The  fleets  met 
off  the   coast   of  Istria,  and   a   terrible  engagement 
ensued,  in  which  the  imperial  fleet  was  totally  defeated, 
Otho   himself  taken   prisoner,   and  48   of  his   ships 
destroyed.     On  the  doge's  return,  the  pope  went  out 
to  meet  him,  and  presented  him  with  a  ring,  saying, 


438 


VENICE. 


'  Take  this,  Ziani,  and  give  it  to  the  aea,  as  a  tcsti- 
mony  of  your  dominion  over  it.  Let  your  successors 
annually  perform  the  same  ceremony,  that  posterity 
may  know  that  your  valour  has  pur  .ased  this  prero- 
gative, and  subjected  this  element  to  you,  even  as  a 
husband  subjecteth  his  tvife.""  Otlio  was  trMted  with 
the  respect  due  to  his  rank;  and  soon  conct^ivod  a 
great  friendship  for  Ziani.  At  last,  being  permitted  to 
visit  the  imperial  court  on  his  parole,  he  not  only  pre- 
vailed on  his  father  to  make  peace  with  the  Venetians, 
but  even  to  visit  their  city,  so  famed  for  its  coniuicrco 
and  naval  power.  He  was  received  with  all  possible 
respect,  and  on  his  departure  attended  to  Ancona 
by  the  doge,  the  senate,  and  the  whole  body  of  the 
nobility.  During  this  journey  he  was  reconciled  to  the 
pope ;  and  both  agreed  to  pay  the  highest  honours  to 
the  doge  and  republic. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  Vene- 
tians, now  become  exceedingly  powerful  and  opulent, 
by  the  commerce  which  they  carried  on  with  the  rich- 
est countries  of  the  world,  were  invited  by  young 
Alexis,  son  to  the  emperor  of  Constantinople,  to 
his  father's  assistance,  who  ha<l  been  deposed  by  a 
rebellious  faction.  In  conjunction  with  the  French, 
they  undertook  to  restore  him ;  and  easily  succeeded. 
But  the  old  emperor  dying  soon  after,  his  son  was 
elected  in  his  room,  and  a  few  days  after  murdered  by 
his  subjects;  on  which  the  empire  was  seized  by  Myr- 
tillus,  a  man  of  mean  birth,  who  had  been  raised  by 
the  favour  of  old  Alexis.  As  the  allied  aimy  of  French 
and  Venetians  was  encamped  without  the  city,  Myr- 
tillus  resolved  immediately  to  drive  them  out  of  his 


rr 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


439 


dominions,  and  for  this  purpose  attempted  to  surprise 
their  camp ;  but  being  repulsed,  he  shut  himself  up  in 
the  city,  with  a  resolution  to  stand  a  siege.     The  allies 
assaulted  it  with  so  much  vigour,  that  the  usurper  was 
obliged  to  fly  ;  and  though  the  citizens  held  out  after 
his  departure,  they  were  obliged  in  less  than  three 
months  to  capitulate.     This  proved  a  source  of  greater 
acquisition   to   Venice   than   all   that  yet   happened. 
All  the  chief  offices  of  the  city  were  filled  up  with 
Venetians,  in  recompense  for  their  services ;  the  allies 
entered  Thrace,  and  subdued  it;  Candia  and  all  the 
Greek   islands   also  fell   under   the  dominion  of  the 
republic.     In  the  mean  time  the  Genoese,  by  their 
successful  application  to  commerce,  having  raised  them- 
selves in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  capable  of  rivalling 
the  Venetians,  a  long  series  of  wars  took  place  between 
the  republics ;  in  which  the  Venetians  generally  had 
the  advantage,  though  sometimes  they  met  with  terri- 
ble overthrows.     These  expensiv  i  and  bloody  quarrels 
undoubtedly  weakened  the  republic,  notwithstanding 
its  successes.     In  1348,  however,  the  Genoese  were 
obliged  to  implore  the  protection  of  Visconti,  duke  of 
Milan,  to  support  them  against  their  implacable  ene- 
mies, the  Venetians.     Soon  after  this,  in  1352,  the 
latter  were  utterly  defeated,  with  such  loss,  that  it  was 
thought  the  city  itself  must  have  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  Genoese,  had  they  known  how  to  improve  their 
victory.    This  was  in  a  short  time  followed  by  a  peace ; 
but  from  this  time  the  power  of  the  republic  began  to 
decline.     Continual  wars  with  the  staus  of  Italy,  with 
the  Hungarians,   and  their  own  rebellious  subjects, 
kept  the  Venetians  employed  so  that  they  had  no 


-rnrr: 


440 


VENICE, 


leisure   to  oppose   the   Turks,   whoae  rapid   advancts 
ouglit  to  have  iilanued  uil  Europe.    •Alter  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  eastern  empire,  the  Turlis  came  more  ijume- 
diately  to  intoricre  with  the  republic.     Whutover  valour 
nkight  be  shown  by  the  Venetians,  or  whatever  successes 
they  might  uoast  of,  it  is  certain  that  the  Turks  ulti- 
mately  prevailed ;  so  that  for  sutiio  time  it  seemed  scarce 
possible  to  resist  them.    What  contributed  also  gieatly 
to  the  deoiino  of  the  republic  was  the  discovery  of  a  pus- 
«age  to  the  East  Indies  by  the  Cape  of  Good  ilope,  in 
1497.    To  this  time  tlie  greatest  part  of  the  East  India 
goods  imj.orted  into  Europe  passeil  through  the  hatids  of 
the  Venetians;  but  as  soon  i>s  the  above-mentioned  dis- 
covery took  place,  the  carriagv!  by  the  way  of  Alexan- 
dria  almost  entirely  ceased.     Still,  however,  the  Vcne- 
tian  power  was  strong;  and  in  the  beginning  of  the 
lUth  century  they  maintained  a  war  against  ahno^^t  the 
wliole  power  of  France,  Germnny,  and  Italy;  but  soon 
after  wo  find  tliem  entering  into  an  alliance  with  some 
Italian  states  and  Henry  IV.  of  France,  against  the 
emperor.      Tliese   wars,  however,  produced    no  conse- 
quences of  any  great  moment ;  and  in  1573.  tranquillity 
was  restored  by  the  conclusion  of  a  peace  with  the 
Turks.     Nothing  of  consequence  happened  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  Venetian  republic  till  1G43,  when  the  Turks 
made  a  sudden  and  unexpected  descent  on  the  island 
of  Candia.     The  senate  of  Venice  did  not  display  their 
usual  vigilance  on  this  occasion.     They  had  seen  the 
immense  warlike  preparations  going  forward,  and  yet 
allowed  themselves  to  be  amused  by  the  grand  signiov's 
declaring  war  against  Malta,  and  pretending  that  the 
armament  was  intended  against  that  island.    The  troopa 


=1 


.J 


OREAT  OniKS  OK   IKK  WORLD. 


441 


linded  witliout  opposition ;  ntid  tho  town  of  CaNea  was 
taKen»  ufter  an  obstinate  dcfonco.  This  news  being 
brou;,'lit  to  Venice,  excited  a  universal  indignation 
against  the  Turks ;  and  tho  aonato  resolved  to  defend 
to  the  utmost  this  valuable  part  of  the  empire.  P^xtra. 
ordinary  ways  and  means  of  raising  money  were  falle;.. 
upon  :  among  others,  it  was  proposed  to  sell  tho  rank 
of  nobility.  Four  citizens  offered  100,000  ducats  each 
for  this  honour;  and,  m".,iU:.  inding  some  opposition, 
this  measure  was  at  ast  catrijd.  Eighty  families 
were  admitted  into  tho  g.'  iid  co.  .icil,  and  to  tho  hon- 
our and  priveleges  of  ';  .^  no!  ;.ity.  The  siege  of 
Candfa,  the  capital  of  t)..  island  of  that  name,  is,  in 
some  respects,  more  memorable  than  that  of  any  town 
which  history  has  recorded.  It  lastod  24  years.  The 
amazing  e.Torts  m::de  by  the  republic  of  Venice  astc- 
nished  all  p]uropc ;  their  courage  interested  the  gallant 
spirits  of  every  nation:  volunteers  from  every  country 
came  to  Candia  to  exercise  their  valour,  to  acquire 
knowledge  in  the  military  art,  and  assist  a  brave  people 
whom  they  admired.  During  this  famous  siege,  the 
Venetians  gained  many  importatit  victories  over  the 
Turkish  fleet.  Sometimes  they  were  driven  from  the 
walls  of  Candia,  and  tho  Turkish  garrison  of  Canea 
was  even  besieged  by  the  Venetian  fleets.  Great 
slaughter  was  made  of  the  Turkish  armies ;  but  new 
armies  were  soon  found  to  supply  their  place.  Maho- 
met IV.,  impatient  at  the  length  of  this  siege,  came  to 
Negropont,  that  he  might  have  more  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  hearing  f  ora  the  vizier,  who  carried  on  the 
siege.  This  war  coat  the  lives  of  200,000  Turks. 
Candia   capitulated   in   1668.      The   conditions   were 


442 


VEXrCK. 


honourably  fulfilled.     Morsini,  the  "Venetian  general, 
marched  out  of  the  rubbish  of  this  well  disputed  city 
with   the  honours  of  war.— The  expense  of  such  a 
tedious  war  greatly  exhausted  the  resources  of  Venice, 
which  could  not  now  repair  them  so  quickly  as  formerly' 
when  she  enjoyed  the  rich  monopoly  of  the  Asiatic 
trade.    This  republic  remained  in  a  state  of  tranquillity, 
endeavouring,  by  the  arts  of  peace  and  cultivation  of 
that  commerce  which   she  still   retained,   to  fill   her 
empty  exchequer,  till  she  was  drawn  into  a  new  ivar, 
in  1683,  by  the  insolence  of  the  Ottoman  court.     The 
Venetians  had  for  some  time  endeavoured,  by  nen-otia- 
tions  and  many  conciliatory  representations,  to  accom- 
modate  matters   with    the    Turks;    and   though    the 
haughty  conduct  of  their  enemies  afforded  small  hopes 
of  success,  yet  such  was  their  aversion  to  war,  that  they 
still  balanced,  whether  to  bear  those  insults  or  repel 
them  by  arms ;  when  they  were  brought  to  decision  by 
an  event  which  gave  the  greatest  joy  to  Venice,  and 
astonished  all  Europe.     This  was    the  great  victory 
gained  over  the  Turkish   army  before   the  walls  of 
Vienna,  by  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland.    In  this  new  war, 
their  late  General  Morsini  again  had  the  command  of 
the  fleets  and  armies  of  the  republic,  and  sustained  the 
great  reputation  he  had  acquired  in  Candia.     He  con- 
quered the  Morea,  which  was  ceded  formally  to  Venice, 
with  some  other  acquisitions,  at  the  peace  of  Carlowitz, 
in  1699.     During  the  war  of  the  succession,  the  state 
of  Venice  obberved  a   strict   neutrality.     They  con- 
sidered that  dispute  as  unconnected  with  their  interests, 
taking  care,  however,  to  keep  on  foot  an  army  on  their 
f 'ntiers  in  Italy,  of  sufficient  force  to  make  them 


J 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


443 


respected  by  the  contending  powers.  But,  aoon  after 
the  peace  of  Utrecht,  the  Venetians  were  again'attacked 
by  their  old  enemies,  the  Turks,  who,  beholding  the 
great  European  powers  exhausted  by  their  late  efforti^, 
and  unable  to  assist  the  republic,  thought  this  a  favour' 
able  moment  for  recovering  the  Morea,  which  had 
been  so  lately  taken  from  them.  The  Turks  obtained 
their  object ;  and  at  the  peace  of  Passarowitz,  which 
terminated  this  unsuccessful  war,  the  Venetian  stat^ 
yielded  up  the  Morea ;  the  grand  seignor,  on  his  part, 
restoring  to  them  the  small  islands  of  Cer'  >  and  Ceri* 
gotto,  with  some  places  which  his  troops  had  taken 
during  the  course  of  the  war  in  Dalmatia,  Those,  with 
the  islands  of  Corfu,  Santa  Maura,  Zante,  and  Ceph- 
alonia,  now  form  the  republic  of  the  Seven  Islands. 
By  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formic,  in  1797,  the  whole 
Venetian  States  were  ceded  to  the  emperor  Joseph  II. 
and  erected  into  the  province  of  Maritime  Austria. 
Verona  alone  was  annexed  to  the  Cisalpine  repub- 
lic, and  hence  now  makes  part  of  the  Italian  Kino^ 

DOM, 

Venice,  appears  at  a  distance  very  striking,  looking 
like  a  great  town  half  floated  by  a  doluge.  Betwixt 
the  city  and  the  Terra  Firma  are  a  great  many  shal- 
lows, on  which  at  low  water  you  may  almost  every 
where  touch  the  bottom  with  a  pole ;  but  all  possible 
care  is  taken  to  prevent  their  becoming  dry  land.  On 
the  south  side  of  the  city  are  also  shallows;  but  on 
these  there  is  a  greater  depth  of  water.  The  chan- 
nels betwixt  them  are  marked  out  by  stakes  or  polev, 
which,  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy  would  certainly 
be  taken  away.     The  city  is  divided  by  a  vast  number 


It 


;i        eit 


the 
rer 


ist< 
nit 
isli) 


to 


tho 
St. 
piif 
the 


ilSt 


itse 


Ni 


Llr= 


VENICE-  4^g 

of  canals,  on  which  ply  the  gondoliers,  or  watermen,  ih 
their  black  gondolas  or  boats.     The  streets  are  very 
clean  and  neat,  but  narrow  and  crooked.     There  are 
no  carriages,  not  so  much  as  a  chair  to  be  seen  in  them. 
Of  the  canals,  that  called  II  canale  Maggiore,  is  by 
far  the  largest  and  longest,  and  consequently  the  most 
beautiful.     Here  races  ai-e  sometimes  run  for  prizes  in 
the  gondolas.     On  its  banks  are  also  several  stately 
houses.     Over    these   cunals   are  a  great  number  of 
handsome  bridges  of  one  arch,  but  witljout  any  fence  on 
either  side;  they  are  also  built  of  white  stone,  with 
which  the  streets  are  all  paved,  except  the  Rialto  over 
the  great  canal    which  is  all  of  marble,  and  cost  the 
republic  250,000  ducats,  the  arch  being  90  feet  wide. 
The  finest  gondolas  are  those  in  which  the  fore'-^n  min- 
isters make  their  public  entries,  being  richly  ■ ..  i..      ted 
with  gilding,  nainting,  and  sculpture.     The' number  of 
islands  on  wliicii  the  city  stands,  according  to  some,  is 
t!0;  according   to   others,  72.     The  circumference  is 
about  six  Italian  miles.     The  inh,  bitants  are  supposed 
to   be  about   150,000,   including   those  of  the  islands 
Murano,  (.iuideca,  and   those   who  live  on   board   the 
barges.     The  most  remaikable  places  in  the  city  are 
the  cl-devant  ducal  palace.  tl>e  square  and  church  of 
St.  Mark,  who  is  the  Tutelar  saint  of  Venice;  the  mint, 
public  library,  grand  arsenal,  several  of  the  palaces  of 
the  nobles,  churches,  convents,  and  hospitals.    In  these 
last    is   a    prodigious    collection    of  the    finest   paint- 
ings; Venice,  in  this  respect,  even  surpassing  Rome 
itself.     liat  the  finest  and  best  of  them  were  carried 
uiT   lo    Piuid    by   Bonaparte,   in   17yT,   to   enrich  the 
National  Museum,  along  with  the  famous  Laoeoon,  &c, 


W]|  "i 


H 

HI 

^^^^^^Ih  W0 

1 

1 

■1 

^^^^^^K.^1 

^ 

446 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


The  diversions  of  the  Venetians  are  chiefly  masque* 
rading,  especially  during  the  carnival  and  other  festi- 
vals; ridottos,  operas,  plays,  and  concerts.     During 
their  festivals,  debauchery,  riot,  and  licentiousness,  are 
carried   to  the  greatest  height.     The  square  of  St. 
Mark  is  the  greatest  ornament  of  the  city,  and  hath 
the  form  of  a  parallelogram.     In  this  square,  besides 
the  church  and  palace  of  St.  Mark,  are  two  towers, 
on  one  side  of  which  is  a  curious  clock ;  and  the  other 
has  stairs  so  constructed  that  one  may  ride  up  on 
horseback.     Opposite  to  the  ducal  palace  is  the  public 
library  of  the  commonwealth ;  containing  a  large  col- 
lection of  books  and  MSS.  with  some  fine  paintings, 
statues,  and  curiosities.     Hard  by  St.  Mark's  square 
is  the  Zeoca,  or  mint.     The  grand  arsenal  is  two  and 
a  half  Italian  miles  in  circuit,  and  contains  vast  quanti- 
ties of  naval  and  other  warlike  stores :  here  are  the 
trophies  of  Scanderbeg  and  others,  with  the  helmet  of 
Attila,  &c.     The  rope  walk  is  444  common  paces  in 
length,  and  the  ropes  and  cables  are  valued  at  2,000,000 
of  silver   ducats.     In  the  foundery  none   but  brass 
cannon  are  cast;  and  100  men  are  generally  at  work 
in  the  forges.     The  salt-petre  works  here  deserve  a 
traveller's  notice:  there  is  a  vessel  filled  with  wine  and 
water  four  times  a  day,  where  the  workmen,  though 
1000  or  more,  may  drink  as  much  and  as  often  as  they 
please.     Close  to  the  Eialto  is  the  bank.     The  trade 
of  the  city  at  present  is  f£,r  short  of  what  it  was  for- 
merly.      Their  chief  manufactures   are   cloth;   espe- 
cially scarlet,  silks,  gold  and  silver  stuffs,  brocades, 
velvets,  and  paper  of  which,  and  wine,  oil,  fruit,  sweet- 
meats, anchovies,  and  several  sorts  of  drugs  used  in 


VENICE. 


447 


physio  and  painting,  the  exports  are  still  considerable. 
Venice  has  neither  wails,  gates,  nor  citadel.     In  the 
treasvn-j  of  relics  is  the  protocol!,  or  original  MS.  as 
they  pretend,  of  St.  JIurk's  r;o»pnf :  it  is  rarely  shown  ; 
and  the  writing  by  length  of  time,  is  so  tlefaced,  that 
the  greatest  connoisseurs  in   MSS.  cannot  determine 
whether  it  was  written  in  Greek  or  Latin.     Besides 
what  is  properly  called  the  city,  there  is  a  multituile  of 
little  islands  lying  round,  which  are  covered  with  build- 
ings, and  make  each  of  them  a  kind  of  separate  town ; 
the  most  considerable  of  which  is  that  called  Guideca, 
or  the  "Jews'  Quarter,"  which  is  large  and  populous; 
with  St.   Erasmo,   St.   Helena,   St.   Georgio,   Chiosa, 
II   Lido   de   Palestrina,   II  Lido  de  Malamoeco,  and 
Murano :  these  islands  are  a  sort  of  fence  to  the  city, 
breaking  the  violence  of  the  waves.     To  distinguish 
them  from  others,  the  Jews  here  must  wear  a  bit  of  red 
cloth  in  their  hats.     The  gardens  in  this  city  are  few 
and   inconsiderable.      In   the   island   of  Murano   are 
made  those  beautiful  looking-glasses,  and  other  glass- 
works for  which  Venice  is  so  much  noted:  here  the 
family  of  Cornaro  has  a  palace,   with  a  gallery  of 
paintings,  little  short  of  an  Italian  mile  in  length. 
The  salt-works  in  the  island  of  Chiosa  are  of  great 
benefit  to  the  Venetians,  and  yield  a  very  considerable 
revenue.     There  are  several  other  small  islands  about 
Venice,  but  they  are  inconsiderable. 

The  Venetians  are  in  general  tall  and  well  made. 
They  are  a  lively,  ingenious  people,  extravagantly 
fond  of  public  amusements,  with  an  uncommon  relish 
for  humour,  and  yet  more  attached  to  the  real  enjoy- 
ments of  life  than  to  those  which  depend  on  ostentation. 


JOBN  8ai)IE3KI. 

VIENNA. 

lENNA,  or   in  Gevvaan,  .Wien,  ia  the 
capital  of  the  Austrian  empire,  and  one 
of  the  oldest  cities  of  central  Europe. 
It  originated,  like  many  others,  from  a 
Roman  camp,  established  to  command 
the  Danube.     The  Romans  culled  the 
place  Vindebina.     In  the   fifth  century,  Christianity 
penetrated  to  the  shores  of  the  Danube,  and  carried 
civilization  with  it.    In  791,  Vienna  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Charlemagne,  who  erected  a  church,  a  school,  and 
various  other  important  institutions.    In  1141,  Henry, 
margrave  of  Austria,  laid  the  foundation  of  the  famous 
oliurch  of  St.  Stephen.     Vienna  received  commercial 
privileges,  and  gradually  became  flourishing. 

The  city  is  situated  upon  the  southern  bank  of  the 
Danube,  in  long.  16°  23'  E.,  lat.  48°  12'  36"  N.  It 
rose  in  importance  chiefly  from  the  time  it  became  the 


i  ! 


AUSrUU.V   COSTUMES. 


residence  of  the  German  emperors,  and  in  every  part 
shows  the  marks  of  gradual  increase.    Tlie  city  proper 
is  small ;  but  the  tliirty -four  suburbs  which  liave  been 
surrounded  by  a  wall,  make  tlie  wliole  capital  large. 
In  1846,  Vienna  had  8,776  habitations  and  429,500 
inhabitants.     Its  commerce  and  manufactures  are  veiy 
valuable,  and  its  palaces,  churches,  literary  and  scien- 
tific institutions  are  highly  renowned.     The  streets  are 
generally  narrow.    Thera  are  eight  brge,  and  ten 
smaller  public  places,  of  which  the  principal  is  Joseph's 
place,  containing  a  statue  of  the  Emperor  Joseph  II. 
The  palaces  are  numerous,  but  with  few  except'ons,  not 
in  good  taste.    The  imperial  castle  attracts  attention 
more  for  ite  extent  and  antiquity  than  by  beauty  or 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


451 


Bjiiimetry.  Tlie  cliurch  of  St.  Stcplien  is  a  magnificent 
edifice.  Monuments  of  princes,  general^,  and  bishops, 
five  pictures  and  tliirtv-eiglit  altars  adorn  its  interior. 
Its  steeple  is  one  of  the  loftiest  in  Europe,  being  452 
feet  high.  There  are  dwelling-houses  in  Vienna  with 
more  than  1,500  inhabitants,  and  yielding  an  annual 
rent  of  100,000  florins.  The  high  and  Jew  nobility 
form  a  great  contrast.  The  (.Germans  are  the  predomi- 
nating race.  Besides  these,  there  are  Greeks,  Italians, 
Poles,  Servians,  Hungarians,  Turks,  etc.  The  Viennese 
love  pleasure  more  than  the  people  of  any  other 
capital  in  Europe,  and  the  numerous  places  of  amuse- 
ment are  finely  sustained.  The  public  gardens  are 
thronged.  The  opera  houses  and  theatres  are  well 
attended.  Each  person  seems  to  be  acting  on  the 
advice,  "  Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  you 
may  die." 

Vienna  Avas  besieged  by  the  Turks  in  HQ—,  and 
reduced  to  great  straits.  But  the  timely  arrival  and 
victory  of  the  heroic  John  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland, 
saved  the  city,  and,  perhaps,  Europe,  from  the  power 
of  the  Mahommedans  The  revolutions  of  1848  were 
severe  blows  to  her  prosperity.  The  emperor  and 
the  court  fled.  The  city  was  besieged.  For  three 
days  Prince  Windischgratz  bombarded  and  cannon- 
aded the  city.  The  liberals  within  the  walls  were 
under  the  command  of  Generals  Bem  and  Messen- 
hauser.  They  fought  manfully,  and  did  not  yield 
until  there  was  no  prospect  of  a  successful  defence. 
When  Windischgratz  entered  Vienna,  it  was  truly  a 
scene  of  desolation.  The  insurgents  had  torn  up  the 
pavements,  and  levelled  houses  to  fortify  the  streets. 


I: 


is 


O 


Man; 

pcarc 
The 

of 

uU  tl 
time 
of  h.- 
niock( 
were 
patrio 
tiirio  c 


L'=r: 


•gKi 


VIENNA. 


453 


nnct  WIWDISCHOBATZ. 


Many  houses  had  been  destroyed  by  the  bombs  and 
cannon  balls,  and  others  were  shattered.  Ruin  ap- 
pcar->l  on  every  side.  The  killed  were  lying  unburied. 
The  wounded  wore  sulTorinjr  for  want  of  attendance. 
Yot  le  in)  .erial  commander  sulTorcd  the  worst  portion 
of  vmy  to      am  through  the  city,  and  appropriate 

all  the  V  iblcs  thoy  could  find.  This  was  Vienna's 
time  of  woe,  misery,  and  ruin.  The  best  and  bravest 
of  h.'r  citizens  were  condemned  to  death  with  horrid 
mockeries  of  judicial  f  -us;  and  the  lash  and  dii  n 
were  the  punishments  of  w^ny  whos,.  onlv  oimcs  ..cmt 
patriotism,  and  the  lov.  civil  liberty.  'This  was  the 
time  of  desolation  fu-  Vi.    ua. 


I'KrKii  TiiK  imnAT. 


ST.   PETERSIUTRGH. 


T.  I'T^TERSBl'RG,  the  capital 
of  ihc  IJu-si.in  empire,  is  situated 
II!  the  month  of  the  Neva,  at  the 
easfeni  extremity  of  the  Gulf 
of  Finhinfl,  about  1400  miles 
N.  K.  of  Paris  an-l  LorHh^ri. 
The  population  now  amounts  to 
about  485,000.  The  eity  Mir- 
papses  every  other  in  Europe  in 
beauty  and  niagnifieence. 

The  stranger  wanders  with  admiration  through  (he 
broad,  regular  streets,  surrounded  witli  the  mo.^'t  mag- 
nificent palaces,  churches  with  gilded  towers,  and  other 
massive  and  colossal  edifices;  his  eyes  every  wlier^- 
rests  on  masterpieces  of  architecture.  On  entering 
the  imperial  gardens  on  the  Neva,  the  majestic  stream 


\^z 


466 


ST.    PUTEKSBURaH. 


CATBARIRS  U, 


presents  a  fine  prospect  with  its  ships,  boats,  and 
bridges.  On  both  banks  are  rich  palaces,  churches, 
and  towers  glittering  Avith  gold,  charming  islands,  and 
beautiful  gardens.  Each  side  of  the  river  is  lined  with 
a  broad  quay  for  the  distance  of  nearly  three  miles. 
The  excellent  water  of  the  Neva  supplies  the  want  of 
springs.  The  czar  Peter  the  Great  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  city  during  the  northern  war  (1703,)  when  he 
constructed  a  fort  on  an  island  in  the  Neva,  for  its 
defence  against  the  Swedes.  To  superintend  tiie  work 
in  person,  Peter  built  a  small  wooden  hut  opposite 
it,  which  is  still  standing,  and  is  now  surrounded  with 
a  stone  building  to  preserve  it.  Public  and  private 
buildings  were  soon  erected,  and  the  nobles  'lud  rich 
merchants  of  Moscow,  Novogorod,  &c.,  were  induced  to 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE   WORLD, 


457 


settle  there,  so  that  iu  a  short  time,  the  place  assumed 
the  appearance  of  a  considerable  city,  wliich,  during 
the  succeeding  reigns,  particularly  in  those  of  Catha- 
rine II.  and  Alexander,  reached  an  almost  unexampled 
degree  ol  magnificence.     The  environs  are  level  and 
low,  m  many  places  consisting  of  morusses  :  they  there- 
fore suffer  from  inundations,  which  sometimes  occasion 
great  ravages;  in  1824,  15,000  persons  perished  by  an 
inundation,  which  destroyed  many  villages,  and  caused 
great  damage  to  the  shipping.    Petersburgh  is  an  open 
city,  without  walls,  and  only  in  some  places  surrounded 
with  a  ditch.    Among  the  ir-habitants  there  are  a  great 
number  of  foreigners,  particularly  Germans,  who  have 
intermixed  much  with  the  llussians,  and  fill  many  civil 
and  military  post..     The  Neva  divides  the  city  into 
two  parts,  of  which  the  southern  or  continental  part  is 
the  largest  and  most  populous  :  the  northern  part  is 
again  divided  by  a  branch  of  the  Neva.     The  city  is 
divided  into  nine  quarters— the  three  admiralty  quar- 
ters,   the  foundery,   the   Moscow,   the   Jfcraskoy,  the 
Vasih-Ostrov,  the  Petersburg,  and  the  Wiburg  quar- 
ters.    Each  quarter  is  subdivided  into  districts,  and 
these  into  inferior  sections,  at  the  head  of  each  of 
which  IS  a  police  officer,  usually  a  retired  major. 

The  whole  organization  of  the  police  is  military;  and 
the  military  judges  are  too  often  entirely  ignorant  of 
tho  laws.  When  they  find  themselves  embarrassed  by 
the  contradictory  provisions  of  different  ukases,  they 
cut  the  knot,  and,  if  the  parties  show  any  dissatis- 
faction with  the  decision,  it  is  sealed  by  a  blow  or  a 
kick.  These  inferior  officers  of  police  are  subordinate 
to  the  police  court  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  the  pro- 


^ 


"H 


4M 


6T.   PETERSBURGH. 


•iding  officer  of  which  is  a  general.     In  the  adm'naUj 
quarter,  which  is  the  finest  part  of  the  city,  is  the  impe- 
rial winter  palace,  on  the  banks  of  the  Nera,  the  inte- 
rior of  which  is  adorned  with  statues  and  mythological 
figures.     Catharine  added  to  it  a  smaller  palace,  called 
the  Hermitage.    This  building  contains  a  rich  collection 
of  works  of  art,  among  which  are  a  largo  number  of  orj. 
ginal  paintings  of  the  great  masters ;  and  attached  to 
it  is  a  garden,  in  which,  as  in  the  garden  of  Calypno, 
reigns  a  perpetual  spring.   Some  hundred  pace*  diotanti 
in  the  splendid  street  called  the  Great  Million,  h  the 
MarblePalace,  of  colossal  dimensions,  which  i%  built  on 
a  granite  basement,  and  was  given  by  Catharine  to  h^r 
favourite,  count  Orloff.    On  the  other  side  of  the  fl/l.ni- 
ralty,  which,  towards  the  land  side  is  enclosed  by  a  ditch 
and  wall,  is  a  walk  planted  with  beautiful  IJrae  trees 
and  some  of  the  finest  buildings  of  the  city,  particularly 
Isaac's  church,  built  entirely  of  marble  (1766—1812,) 
at  an  expense  of  26,500,000  roubles,  and  which  haa, 
since  its  completion,  been  continually  receiving  addi- 
tional embellishments.     Not  far  off  is  seen  the  palace 
of  the  prince  Labancff,   a  gigantic   work,  even  for 
Petersburg,  and  built  at  an  enormous  expense.    Farther 
down,  near  the  Neva,  is  the  equestrian  statue  of  Petrr 
the  Great,  cast  by  Falconet.     It  stands  in  a  spacious 
square,  on  an  immense  block  of  granite,  about  the  size 
of  a  small  house,  and  weighing  above  800  tons.    In 
Romanzoff  place  is  a  marble  obelisk,  erected  by  Catha- 
rine, in  honor  of  Romanzoff 's  victories,  and,  in  Suwar- 
roff  place,  a  bronze  statue  of  Suwarroff. 

Among  the  numerous  remarkable  edifices  and  insti- 
tutions, we  shall  mention  the  academy  of  sciencef,  to 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


459 


EQITSTttlAN  SIAIDB  OP  PETPR  IHB  OEEAT. 

which  belongs  a  very  vahiable  library,  a  cabinet  of 
naturaUc.once,  and  an  observatory  :  the  now  exchange, 
fimshed  m  1816,  a  splendid  building,  surrounded  by  a 
colonnade  of  44  pillars  ;  the  house  of  the  fir»*  corps  of 
cadets,  occupied  by  nearly  4000  men.  and  ^m^^^ekg  a 
circuit   of  above    a    mile;    cl«   .p^cio,,*    E^Wi«^   ^ 
the  =^cademy  of  fine  arts,  whi^i,,  hrn^k*  ac.^niork- 
t.ons  for  300-400  pupils,  who  ar«  m^^in^  ^^A 
educated  at  the  expense  of  the  crow«,  emtmm  e^^y 
thing  suitable  for  such  an  establishment;  the  »#xo4 
or  naval,  mining,  artillery,  and  engineer  oMet  corm- 
the  university  (instituted  in  1819)  with  its  coHectior«; 
and  above  50  public  institutions  for  education,  supported 
at  the  expense  of  the  state.     Those  institutions  he 
m  the  Vasdi-Ostrov  (Basil's  island,)  to  which  there  i» 


#! 


460 


ST.    PETERSBURG. 


access  from  the  continent  by  a  bridge  of  boats.  There 
are  also  similar  institutions  in  other  quarters  of  the 
city,  particularly  the  great  'mnerial  gymnasium,  and 
numerous  benevolent  establishments,  such  as  military 
and  other  hospitals,  the  insane  hospital,  the  institutions 
for  the  blind,  and  for  the  deaf  ajid  dumb,  various  medi- 
cal and  surgical  establishments,  the  great  foundlint^ 
hospital,  In  which  about  5000  children  are  nursed  and 
educated,  and  in  which  the  mother  is  permitted  to  lie-in 
without  charges,  and  then  to  leave  or  take  away  her 
child,  whether  legitimate  or  not,  without  being  ques- 
tioned  as  to  her  name  and  station.  With  this  is  con- 
nected the  great  pawn-house,  in  which  loans  are  made, 
even  on  real  property. 

In  all  the  institutions  for  instruction  (as  is  also  the 
case  with  the  high  schools  throughout  the  empire,) 
Russian,  German,  and  French,  and,  in  many,  Englisli, 
aie  taught :  Latin  and  Greek  are  also  publicly  tau^^lit ; 
and  the  young  Russian  shows  a  decided  taste  for 
dancing,  music,  and  painting.  There  are  eleven  public 
libraries :  the  most  important  is  the  imperial,  contain- 
ing 300,000  volumes  and  12,000  manuscripts. 

Among  the  palaces  should  be  mentioned  the  splendid 
Michailoff  palace,  built  by  Paul,  near  the  summer- 
garden,  at  an  expense  of  10,000,000  roubles;  the 
Taurian  palace,  with  its  admirable  gardens,  built  and 
occupied  by  Potcmkin,  and  much  enlarged  and  embel- 
lished by  Catharine  during  his  absence.  The  roofs  of 
all  the  palaces,  and  most  of  the  houses,  are  covered 
with  thin  iron  plates,  varnished  black  or  green.  The 
summer  residences  also  desorve  to  be  seen  on  account 
of  their  natural  and  arHficial  beauties. 

40 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


461 


RCBBIAN  C0STD1U8. 


Petersburg  contains  115  churches  for  the  established 
worship,  and  33  for  other  rites.     The  most  splendid 
are  Isaac's  church,  and  that  of  our  Lady  of  Kazan  : 
the  latter  is  of  great  dimensions :  the  nave  and  cupola 
are  supported    by   56   granite    columns,   with   bronze 
capitals  :  the  pavement  is  of  different  kinds  of  marble, 
the  steps  to  the  choir  of  porphyry,  with  a  silver  balus- 
trade.    Among  the  towers,  the  most  remarkablo  are 
that  of  the  admiralty,  and  that  of  the  fortress,  of  a 
pyramidal   form,   and   more   than   half  covered   with 
plates  of  pure  gold.     Public  worship  is  performed  in 
fifteen  languages,   and  according   to  ekven  different 
rites.     Organ:;  ana  other  instrumental  music  are  not 
heard  in  tla    Russian  churches,  but  singing  is  much 


•  s 


462 


ST.    PBTERSBU Ua. 


KIDITKA,  OR  RCeSIAN  BIEIGII. 

cultivated.     There  are  no  seats  in  them.     The  wor- 
shippers come  and  go  at  plensure,  and  are  crowded 
together  without  distinction  of  rank,  each,  as  his  feel- 
ings dictate,  crossing  himself,  falling  upon  his  knees, 
touching  his  forehead  to  the  ground,  and  murmuring 
for  the  hundredth  time,  Hospodiii  i)omillny  (Lord,  have 
mercy  upon  me.)     The  Lutherans,  Calvinists,  Armeni- 
ans, &c.,  have  churches,  and  there  is  one  Mohammedan 
house  of  prayer.     The  most  remarkable   monasteries 
are  that  of  Alexander  Newskoi  (q.  v.,)  the  residence  of 
the  raetropolitj..^  and  which  contains  in  a  silver  tomb, 
the  bones  of  the  saint,  and  the  Smolnui  nunnery. 


MADBID. 


HE  capital  of  Castile  and  "all 
the  Spains"  stands  on  several 
low  hills  on  the  immense  Cas- 
tilian  plain,  which  on  the 
north  appears  bounded  by  the 
high  range  of  the  Gi'ada- 
ramna,  but  on  every  other 
side  has  no  visible  termina- 
tion. 

It  occupies  a  space  of  nearly 
4  sq.  m.,  on  a  slope  inclining 
S.  S.  W.  towards  the  Man- 
zanares,  usually  an  insignifi- 
cant stream  crossed  by  two 
rtiagnificent  bridges,  the  size 
and  beauty  o"  v,hich  contrast 
so  strongly  with  the  river  r  eiu  ath  as  •'o  have  given  rise 
to  the  saying,  that  "the  kingt  q\  ^lpaia  should  sell  the 
bridges,  and  purchase  water  •.v.th  the  money."     The 
river,  however,  sometimes  swells  to  a  great  height,  and 
pours  down  a  magnificent  volume  of  water.     The  town 
is  surrounded  by  a  shabby  brick  wall,  in  which  are  15 
stone  gates,  the  handsomest  being  those  of  Alcala, 
San  Vincente,  and  Toledo.     The  interior  comprises  an 
old  and  a  more  modern  quarter,  the  former,  built  before 
Madrid,  was  the  metropolis  of  Spain.     The  E.  and 


464 


KAMt.lV. 


Bl'A.Nlail  COKtBMES. 


more  ir.oderr  p;ivt  is  certainly  not  devoid  of  bounty ; 
and  its  wiue  and  well-paved  streets,  lined  with  lianduotno 
and  lofty  houses,  chiefly  built  with  brick  and  gi-ay  gran- 
ite, t!>o  exteriHiv*}  and  wel]-))lsintod  valks.  the  8<tuares 
with  their  elegant  t'ountahis,  and  the  rnasiy  large  ami  wj-ll 
h\vh  public  oduicea.  remind  the  traveller  that  lie  i.s  in 
one  of  the  liaest,  though  perhaps  the  dullest,  eapitals 
in  Europe. 

The  best  entrance  to  the  city  is  by  the  Saragossa 
road,  through  the  gate  o-f  Alcala.  a  noble  Ionic  sti'uc- 
ture,  with  three  arches,  the  central  one  being  70  feet 
iiigh.  Within  the  walla,  right  and  left,  is  the  long, 
wide  Prado,  with  its  rows  of  trees  stretching  iu  fino 


.J 


GREAT    CITIKS    OF    TlIK    WORLD. 


4fir> 


perspective  for  more  tliari  A  m.,  and  in  front  is  the  Calle 
de  Aleala,  reaching  into  the  heart  of  the  city,  J  m. 
in  length,  wider  than  Rogont-street,  and  flanked  by  a 
splendid  range  of  unequal  building.,  but  all  of  large 
size,  and  good   proportions.     At  its  end  is  the  grett 
centre,  in  which  most  of  the  better  streets  terminate, 
and,  now  at   least  rather  inappropriately,  designated 
the  Pucrta    de  Sol.     Here,    close   to    the   Boha,   or 
exchange,  is  the  great  morning  rendezvous,  either  for 
business  or  pleasure.     The  best  streets  uniting  in  this 
point  are  tlie  Calle  3Inyor,  the  Calh  de  la  Montera, 
and  the  Calle  de  las  Carrefas,  all  busy  thoroughfares, 
with  good  and  showy  shops.     The  Calh  del  Arsenal, 
leads  to  the  palace,  and  the  Carrera  de  San  aeronimo 
is  the  direct  road  to  the  gardens  of  the  Buen  Retiro. 
Among  the  squares  of  Madrid,   the  largest,  with  the 
exception  of  the  space  fronting  the  palace,  is  the  Plaza 
Mayor,  a  rectangular  area,  430  feet  in  length,  and  330 
feet  broad,  surrounded  by  a  uniform  range  of  stone 
buildings,  five  stories  high,  the  lower  part  being  open 
in  front,  and  supported  by  pillars  forming  a  handsome 
colonnade.     The  chief  streets  running  into  it  are  those 
of  Atocha  and  Toledo,  the  latter  passing  through  the 
Plaza  de  Cehada  (formerly  the  place  of  execution  for 
criminals,)  and  through  the  gate  to  the  bridge  of  its 
own  name.     None  of  these  streets,  however,  will  bear 
aiy  comparison  with  the  Calle  de  Alcala :  many  are 
good,  and  very  many  respectable,  tolerably  wide,  and 
formed  with  lofty  and  well  built  houses ;  but  there  is 
no  other  magnificent  street.     The  bye-streets  are  nar- 
row and  crooked,  especially  in  the  S.  W.  quarter,  where 


IL 


n 


46G 


MADRID. 


t.vtremo 


decay  of  material,  closeness  of  building,  and 
filth,  are  the  almost  unvarying  cljuracteiistics. 

Among  the  public  buildings,  tho  most  conspicuous 
is  the  roynl  palace,  occupying  with  its  gardens,  a  space 
of  nearly  80  acres,  on  tho  East  bank  of  the  river.     It 
stands  on  tho  site  of  tho  old  Alcazar  of  Pliilip  II.  burnt 
down  in  1734,  and  has  four  fronts  of  white  str  ne  (each 
470  feet  in  length  and   100  feet  high,)  encl^  ^ii.g  a 
spacious  quadrangle.     Tho  interior   is   fitted  up  in   a 
Btylo  of  costly  magnificence,  perhaps  not  surpassed  m 
any  palace  of  Europe.     The  ceilings  are  chc/t,-d'a;ut  re 
of  Mengs,  Velasquez,  Carrado,  and  Ticpolo ;  tho  rich- 
est marbles  of  Spain  adorn  its  walls,  and  the  rouins 
are   hung   with   paintings    by   the  best    masters,   and 
noble  mirrors   from   the  manufactory  of  St.  Ildefoi   o. 
Many  of  the  best  pictures,  however,  have  been  removed 
to  the  royal  picture-gallery  in  the  Prado.     Its  armoury 
\a  especially  curious,  and  pr.^scnts  numerous  specimen's 
T-r  iis  ms  and  accoutrements  taken  from  the  Moors  by 
Fordmand  tho   Catholic   and    his   victorious  generals. 
The   other  chief  buildings  arc— the  custom-house,  a 
handsome  range  of  buildings,  320  feet  in  length ;  the 
Buena-vista  palace,  now  used   as  a  museum  of  civil 
engineering ;  and  tho  palace  of  the  council  of  Castile, 
in  the  Calle  do  Alcala ;  tho  poyt-offico  in  the  Piierta 
del  Sol;   the  king's  printing-oflico,  in  the  Calle  de  las 
Carretas  ;   the  duke  of  Liria's  palace,  containing  a  fine 
collection  of  pictures,  near  the  gate  of  St.  Bcrmardino, 
in  the  N.  quarter  of  the  city ;  the  palace  of  the  Duke  of 
Berwick;    and    the    national    gallery,    in    tho   Prado. 
Madrid,  though  a  bisli  )p'3  see,  has  no  cathedral;  but 
there  are  67  churche; ;   among  which,  however,  the 


GREAT  (.  ITlIiS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


467 


churches  of  San  Isidore  and  the  Visitation  are  alone 
wortl  y  of  notice,  the  rest  beinc;  externally  and  inter- 
nally barbarous.  "No  mad  architect,"  says  gvin- 
burne,  "ever  dreamt  of  a  distortion  of  members  so 
capricious,  of  a  twist  of  pillars,  cornices,  or  pediments 
80  wild  and  fantastic,  but  that  a  real  sample  of  it  may 
be  produced  in  some  one  or  other  <  '  iiurches  of 
Madrid.    They  are,  with  two  or  ihrf  tions,  small 

and  pooj  both  in  marbles  and  picti  Their  altars 

are  piles  of  wooden  ornaments  heapc  >  to  the  ceiling 
and  htuck  full  of  wax-lights,  which  more  than  once  have 
set  fix'e  to  the  whole  church." 

I    -vioiisly  to  1834  there  were  66  convents ;  but  seve- 
ral     tve  since  been  pulled  down  to  widen  the  streets, 
while  others  have  been       » verted  to  different  and,  no 
doubt,  more  useful  purpos.jd  than  the  maintenance,  in 
pampered  idleness,  of  hundreds  of  dissolute  monks  and 
nuns.     The  great  <valks  cohstitute  another  grand  fea- 
ture of  the  city.     The  Fmdo,  or  public  promenade,  is 
as  fashionably  attended,  especially  on  Sunday,  as  Hyde 
park  in  London,    It  is  nearly  2  m.  long,  and  comprises 
a  broad  walk,  called  the  mlon,  flanked  by  several  of 
less  width,  thickly  shaded  with  elm  trees :  coatiguous 
to  it  is  the  garden  of  the  Buen  Eetiro,  the  palace  of 
that  name  having  been  drmolisl    d;  and  still  farther 
S.  are  the  shady  gardens  calh  i  Las  Belie ias,  leading 
to  the  Canal  de  Manzanare-    vvhich  was  once  intended 
to  connect  Madrid  with  tl     Tagus  at  Toledo.     These 
walks,  in  the  afternoons  of  autumn,  are  crowded  with 
th     most  respectable  inhabitants,  nor  can  any  bettor 
idea  of  the  out-of-door  appearance  of  the  population  be 
got  than  by  observing  them  on  the  Prado.     In  the 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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Madrid. 


469 


spring,  however,  the  scene  is  Taried  hy  visits  to  Aran- 
juez,  a  beautiful  park  near  the  Tagus,  forming  a  ver- 
dant oasis  in  the  iriidst  of  a  desert.     "  The  ladies," 
says    Quin,   ''wear,   with   few   exceptions,   black    silk 
dresses   and   shawls,   or   rather  mantillas,   of  various 
colours,  while  their  head-dress  consists  only  of  a  slight 
veil  attached  to  the  hair  by  a  comb,  and  falling  on  the 
shoulder;  and  the  graceful  manner  in  which  they  wear 
the  mantilla  and  veil  gives  to  them  all  a  smart  and 
attractive    air.     The   dress    of  the    men   is   in    every 
respect  similar  to  that  of  the  French  or  English ;  but 
they   U8u;>}]y  cover  tlif^ir  persons   with    large  cloaks, 
which,  fioni  the  manner  of  Wearing  them,  have  rather 
a  graceful  ajiprarance. 

Madrid  is  the  Mantua  Cavpaannrum  of  the  Romans, 
and  the  Mfijo.-iinin  of  the  middle  ages,  Philip  II. 
first  ma<le  it  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  on  account  of 
its  ccrttraj  |.osition.  It  was  occupied  by  French  troops 
in  1808,  and  was  the  lesidence  of  Joseph  .Napoleon 
untin812.  The  city  was  afterwards  occupied  by  the 
English.  Dimug  the  French  expedition  into  Spain  in 
1823,  it  was  again  entered  by  a  foreign  army  com- 
man  (led  by  the  duke  of  Angoul^me. 


PAKIS. 


TJff^  AKIS,  the  capital  of  France, 
&^  has  made  pretensions  to  be 
considered  as  the  general 
capital  ofthe  civilized  world. 
London  can,  in  fact,  alone, 
dispute  its  claim,  being  more 
extensive,    more    wealthy, 
and  the  seat  of  a  much  more 
extened  commerce  ;  yet  the 
central  situation  of  Paris, 
the  peculiar  attractions  ren- 
dering it  the  crowded  resort 
of  strangers,   and  its  bril- 
liant und  polished  society, 
especially  under    tl>3    old 
niojiarchy,  gave  to  tins  city 
a  gayer  aspect,   and    ren- 
dered it  a  more  conspicuous  object  in  the  eyes  of 
Europe.     Paris  is  not  only  less  populous  than  London, 
but  in  proportion  to  its  population  it  covers  less  ground- 
It  forms  on  both  banks  of  the  Seine  an  ellipse  of  about 
four  miles  in  length  and  three  in  breadth.  The  principal 
streets  are  long,  narrow,bordered  by  high  houses  whi^h, 
like  those  of  Edinburgh,  are  each  occupied  by  several 
families.    The  streets  of  shops  are  further  encumbered 
by  the  exhibition  of  the  merchandize  in  front  of  th© 


L 


PARIS. 


471 


dcors,  a  prac'.ice  only  tolerated  in  the  moat  obscure 
districts  of  British  cities.    Paris  thus  presents  generally 
a  more  ^■'nfiny  i,:u\  confused  aspect  than  London;  nor 
has  it  any  stri..ciii;e  ttl/idi  rnn  match  the  pvnndour  of 
St»    Pi-iil's,    or   pcrlmps    the   beauty    of    Westminster 
Abbey:  yet  some  of  its  quarters  contain  long  ranges 
of  superb  and  stately  edifices,  which  London  cannot 
rival.     The  palaces  of  Paris  in  particular,  fur  excel 
those  of  the  rival  metropolis.     The  most  distinguished 
is  the  Louvre,  finisheu  with  the  utmost  splendour  in  the 
style  that  distinguished  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.     Its 
front,  625  feet  long,  is  a  model  of  symmetry,  the  effect 
of  which  is  only  injured  by  the  want  of  space  before  it. 
The  Louvre  is  not  now  occupied  as  a  palace,  but  as  a 
grand  depot  of  the  objects  of  taste  and  art.     The 
gallery,  which  is  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long, 
and  the  walls  of  which  are  entirely  crowded  with  paint- 
ings that  are  still  fine,  forms  a  magnificent  coup  d'ceil. 
The  hall  of  statues  is  still  adorned  with  some  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  ancient  sculpture.     The  Tuileries, 
which  is  the  present  royal  residence,  was  begun  at  an 
earlier  period  than  the  Louvre,  and  carried  on  at  suc- 
cessive times ;  whence  it  exhibits  varied  and  sometimes 
discordant  features,  but  is  on  the  whole  a  noble  and 
venerable  edifice,  surrounded  with  fine  gardens  and  ave- 
nues.   The  palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  on  the  south  of 
Paris,  and  the  Palais  Bourbon  on  the  west,  are  edifices 
of  great  taste  and  beauty.     The  former,  now  stripped 
of  the  famous  series  of  paintings  by  Rubens,  which  has 
been  transferred  to  the  Louvre  gallery,  affords  in  one 
part  a  place  of  assembly  for  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  and 
n  another  apartments  for  the  exhibition  of  paintings 


H 


472 


GREAT  CITIUS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


by  living  artists ,  while  the  Palais  Bourbon  is  in  part 
occupied  by  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  The  Palais 
Royal  is  no  longer  exclusively  a  palace,  but  is  in  pa  it 
leased  out  to  sundry  persons,  for  purposes  partly  of 
business,  but  much  more  of  pleasure :  it  is  filled  with 
shops,  coffee-houses,,  taverns,  gaming-tables,  and  every 
form  of  gaiety  and  dissipation  which  can  find  acceptance 
in  such  a  city.  Notre  Dame,  the  ancient  cathedral  of 
Paris,  is  somewhat  heavy  and  massive,  but  the  interior 
is  richly  decorated.  The  modern  church  of  St.  Gdno- 
vi^ve,  called  during  the  Revolution,  the  Pantheon,  was 
highly  extolled  during  its  erection,  as  destined  to 
eclipse  both  St.  Peter's  and  St.  Paul's ;  and  such  Mas 
the  expectation  entertained  in  France,  till,  the  scafl'old- 
ing  being  removed  and  the  front  thrown  open,  its  infe- 
riority became  apparent .  however,  it  is  still  an  edifice 
of  a  high  class.  The  Madeleine  is  one  of  the  finest 
churches  in  the  world.  It  is  of  white  marble  and  of 
Grecian  architecture.  Paris  has  no  fine  streets,  nor 
any  of  those  ample  squares  which  are  so  great  an 
ornament  of  London.  It  boasts,  however,  of  its  places, 
which,  without  having  the  regular  form  or  dimensions 
of  a  square,  command  admiration  by  the  ranges  of 
noble  buildings  that  surround  them. 

In  particular,  the  Place  Louis  Quinze,  standing  in 
a  central  situation  among  the  palaces,  presents  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  points  of  view  to  be  found  in  the  city. 
The  capital  possesses  great  advantages  in  the  wide, 
ornamented  spaces,  which  lie  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
city.  The  Boulevards,  the  ancient  rampart  of  Paris, 
when  it  was  circumscribed  within  a  much  narrowei 
compass,  are  nov.'  converted  into  a  walk  adorned  with 


474 


PAUIS. 


rows  of  trees,  and  filled  with  numerous  exhibitors  and 
venders  of  every  thing  that  can  conduce  to  public 
amusement.  The  gardens  of  the  Tuileries  and  the 
embellished  spot  called  the  Champa  ElyseSs,  arc  also 
open  to  the  public. 

Perhaps  the  most  terrible  days  which  Paris  has  ever 
passed  through  were  those  of  the  insurrection  in  June, 
1848.  The  struggle  between  the  government  and  the 
socialists  lasted  four  entire  days.  Over  one  Imndrcd 
thousand  insurgents  maintained  the  strife  against  about 
double  the  number  of  troops.  Nearly  every  part  of 
the  city  was  barricaded.  The  pavements  were  torn  up 
and  houses  pulled  down  to  supply  the  materials  for 
building  the  rude  fortifications.  General  Cavaignac 
was  made  dictator  by  the  assembly,  and  skilfully 
ordered  every  thing  upon  the  government  side.  The 
workingmen  fought  bravely  and  well,  repulsing  many 
of  the  assaults  made  by  the  troops.  Even  women  and 
children  took  post  behind  the  barricades.  Upon  the 
banners  of  the  insurgents  was  inscribed  their  want— 
"Bread!"  The  skill  and  determination  of  Cavaignac 
prevailed.  By  the  evening  of  Monday,  the  21st  of 
June,  every  barricade  was  carried  by.  the  troops,  and 
the  insurgents  gave  up  the  fight.  Order  was  restored ; 
but  Paris  was  one  great  scene  of  ruin  and  desola',ion. 
The  exact  number  of  the  slain  in  this  awful  conflict 
cannot  be  ascertained.  It  is  estimated  at  20,000.  The 
soldiers  suffered  most.  A  large  number  of  the  insur- 
gents were  made  prisoners.  Some  of  the  leaders  were 
transported,  and  others  imprisoned. 


L. 


A/**" 


euA«  roM  or  unmm. 


LONDON. 

IT  is  the  British  boaet,  that  London  is 
now  the  metropolis  of  tho  world; 
and,  at  least,  as  the  capital  of  Great 
Britain,  and  as  possessing  over  two 
millions  of  inhabitants,  magnificent  edi- 
fices and  extensive  trade,  tho  city  m 
entitled  to  the  foremost  rank. 

London  retains  in  its  name  an  cvi. 
dence  of  its  Gothic  origin.  Its  founders 
were  the  Trinobantes,  by  whoso  name 
geographers  have  distinguished  it  from 
the  Kcre  ancient  capital  of  Scania,  still  designated,  in 
the  works  printed  at  its  university,  Londinum  Qotho- 
rum.    So  early  as  the  reign  of  Nero,  London  had 


"1, 


^=^ 


LONDON. 


4.7 


become  a  place  of  considerable  traffic,  as  appears  from 
Tacitus,  the  earliest  of  the  Roman  historiana  who  men- 
tion it  by  name.  The  Romans  fortified  it  with  a  wall, 
and  made  it  one  of  their  principal  stations.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  third  century,  in  the  reign  of  the 
CDiperor  Scvorus,  it  i.s  represented  as  a  great  and 
wealthy  city,  and  considered  to  be  the  metropolis  of 
Untain.  Such  wna  the  extent  of  its  commerce,  that 
we  are  told,  by  the  hiatorian  Zosimus,  that,  in  the  year 
3.j!),  800  vessels  belonging  to  this  place  were  employed 
in  the  exportation  of  grain.  In  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century,  it  became  the  capital  of  the  East  Saxonr,, 
whose  king,  Sebert,  is  generally  reputed  the  founder 
of  the  cathedral  church  dedicated  to  Saint  Paul,  and 
of  the  abbey  and  abbey  church  of  Westminster.  After 
the  union  of  the  seven  kingdoms,  Egbert,  in  833,  held 
hero  his  first  uu'/ffnui/cniotc,  or  council:  but  London 
was  not  constituted  the  capital  of  England,  until  its 
recovoiy  from  the  Danes  by  Alfred,  who  laid  the 
foundation  of  its  present  municipal  government. 

■\ViIiiam  of  Normandy,  whose  interest  it  was  to  con- 
ciliate the  citizens,  though  he  built  the  fortress  called 
the  Tower,  to  keep  them  in  a  wo,  confirmed  the  privi- 
leges and  imnmnitios  which  they  had  enjoyed  under  his 
patron  Edward  the  Confessor ;  svibsecpient  sovereigns 
augmented  and  extendr.i  ,:hem  by  various  charters,  one 
of  which,  granted  by  King  John,  authorizetl  "  the 
barons"  of  London  to  choose  a  mayor  annually,  or 
continue  the  same  person  in  that  ofiice  from  year  to 
year  at  their  pleasure. 

The  city  attained  to  great  splendour  under  Edward 
IIL,  who  held   frequent   tournays   in   Smithfield   and 


L'r;  = 


478 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  TZIB   WOULD. 


Other  places ;  and  its  arckitccturo  at  that  period  ex- 
hibited every  variety  of  the  richest  style  of  Gotliic, 
hoth  in  public  and  private  edifices.  The  cathedral  of 
St.  Paul  held  the  pre-eminence ;  and  its  spire  is  said 
to  have  been  five  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high.  The 
streets  were  mostly  narrow,  and  the  higher  stories  of 
the  houses  projected  over  the  lower.  There  were  no 
glass  windows ;  and  on  the  ground  floors  the  wares  of 
tradesmen  were  openly  displayed. 

Notwithstanding  several  visitations  of  fire  and  pesti- 
lence, London  continued  to  increase,  especially  after 
the  accession  of  the  Tudors,  when  the  overthrow  of 
feudal  vassalage,  and  the  more  frequent  resort  to  the 
capital,  caused  an  augmentation  so  rapid  as  to  alarm 
the  government.     The  dissolution  of  monasteries,  of 
which  London  contained  so  large  a  proportion,  accele- 
rated this  increase,  while  it  gave  an  impulse  to  industry 
and  commerce.     In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  influx 
of  strangers  driven  from  the  Netherlands,  by  the  per- 
secutions of  the  Duke  of  Alva,  heightened  the  alarm, 
and  the  queen  was  even  induced  to  issue  the  absurd 
and  futile  decree  that  no  more  dwelling-uouses  should 
be  built;  a  prohibition  which  does  not  seem  for  a  moment 
to  have  retarded  the  growth  of  the  city.     Her  public 
spirit  was  more  sensibly  manifested  after  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham  had  erected  a  bourse  for  the  merchants,  which 
she  visited  in  great  state,  and  caused  to  be  proclaimed 
"  The  Royal  Exchange."     In  this  reign  the  luxury  of 
coaches   was   introduced   from    Holland,   by   William 
Boones,  a  Dutchman,  who  was  appointed  coachman  to 
the  queen.     It  was   an  epoch  alike  intellectual  and 
prosperous,  adorned  with  the  names  of  Bacon,  Cecil, 


^'1 


LONDON. 


479 


and  Walsingham;  of  Ruleigh  and  Drake;  of  Shaks- 
peare,  Spenser,  and  Jonaon.    Some  of  these  great  rocn 
also  illustrated  the  pacific  reign  of  Jan.es  I.,  scarcely 
disturbed  except  by  one  singular  event ;  the  discovery 
of  a  conspiracy  of  fanatic  Jesuits  and  papists,  to  blow 
up  the  king  and  both  houses  of  Parliament.     In  IG.% 
the  refinements  of  Paris  and  Madrid  were  emulated  in 
London  by  the  introduction  of  hackney  <,oachos  and 
ledan  chairw.     Durin;,.  the  civil  wars,  the  capital  parti- 
cipated m  tho  troubles  that  afflicted  the  country,  and 
also  in  tho  advantu;,'e8,  accruing  from  the  famous  navi- 
gation act  pa8.sed   in  1651,  during  the  intcrrc,;num. 
Ihe  citizens,  secretly  alienated  from  Cromwell  and  his 
council  by  the  execution  of  the  king,  hailed  with  enthu- 
Biasm  tho  restoration  of  Charles  11.,  and  adopted  with 
indiscriminate  eagerness  the  change  of  manners  intro- 
duced by  his  court  and  followers  from  Franco      The 
reign  of  Charles  II.  includes  tho  most  memorable  epoch 
in  the  history  of  London.     In  1665,  a  plague  swept 
away  100,000  persons.     In   September,  1666,  broke 
out  that   great  and  awful  fire  which  destroyed  400 
streets,  13,000  houses,  89  churches,  including  the  vene- 
rable cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  the  Guildhall,  tho  Herald's 
College,  the  Royal  Exchange,  and  many  other  struc- 
tures.    For  the  rebuilding  of  the  city  an  admirable 
plan    was   presented   by   Sir   Christopher  Wren,   the 
architect;  but  the  regard  due  to  private  property,  au.l 
the  difficulty  of  reconciling  conflicting  interests,  allowed 
It  to  be  but  very  partially  adopted.     lU  rebuilt  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Paul  and  most  of  tho  parish  churches 
m  tho  Grecian  style,  and  the  front  of  Guildhall  in  the 
original  Gothic,  of  Portland  stone.     Instead  of  wood 


480 


GUEAT  CtTIl'.H  01'  THE  WOULD. 


and  plaster,  tlie  chief  materials  of  the  former  cit}',  the 
new  dwelling-houses  and  the  halls  of  the  city  companies 
were  built  of  brick,  in  the  substantial  though  heavy 
style  then  in  vogue ;  with  greater  regard  to  conveni- 
ence than  to  external  display :  ornament,  however,  of 
a  certain  kind  was  not  wanting.  In  the  Htrects  occu- 
pied by  traders,  gaudy  signs  with  various  devices,  in 
iron  and  gilded  brasswork,  hung  over  every  door,  or 
projected  from  every  house ;  the  simple  distinction  of 
numbering  not  having  been  adopted  or  perhaps  thought 
of.  There  were  no  flagged  footpaths ;  the  streets  were 
ill-paved;  and  as  there  was  no  system  of  diainnge  bv 
sewers,  and  no  distribution  of  pure  water  by  pipes,  tliey 
were  in  some  places  far  from  endurable. 

The  city,  however,  had  gained  greatly  by  the  change, 
though  with  ihe  sacrifice  of  many  interesting  memorials 
of  its  ancient  state,  and  of  its  most  glorious  times.  In 
1687,  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes  bv  Louis 
XIV.  ga/e  to  London  its  colony  of  silk  weavers.  The 
revolution  of  1088  was  cftected  without  tlio  slightest 
public  commotion  in  London,  except  that  which  ensued, 
on  the  sudden  return  of  James  II.  to  Whitehall,  previ- 
ously to  his  final  departure  from  the  kingdom.  The  first 
years  of  the  reign  of  William  and  Mary  were  signalized 
by  the  establishment  of  the  Bank  of  England,  the  insti- 
tution of  the  funding  system,  and  the  introduction  of 
those  changes  in  the  operations  of  commerce  by  which 
it  was  necessarily  accompanied. 

London,  though  not  the  most  splendid,  is  the  clean- 
est, the  healthiest,  and  most  commodious  metropolis  in 
the  world.  It  is  well  built,  well  paved,  well-lighted, 
and  abundantly  supplied  with  water  for  the  all-import- 


L 


LONDON. 


481 


ant  object  of  preventing  conflagrat.on.     Foreignera 
who  visit  it  for  the  first  time  soon  discover  that  utility, 
not  ornament,  is  the  main  characteristic  of  the  town' 
and  that  business,  not  amusement,  occupies  the  minds 
of  its  inhabitants.    The  main  streets  are  spacious ;  and 
all  the  streets  have  the  advantage  of  flagged  foot-pave- 
ments on  each  side.     The  houses  are  of  brick;  and 
though  in  the  most  populous  streets  discoloured  by 
smoke,  have  by  no  means  a  gloomy  appearance.  Having 
been  built  at  various  periods,  and  chiefly  -.n  the  site  of 
old  streets  or  along  the  lines  of  roads,  the  metropolis 
can  lay  no  claim  to  regu      ty  of  plan ;  some  parts  are 
regular,  others  irregular :  but  it  is  for  that  reason  more 
agreeable  than  if  it  had  been  a  parallelogram  of  streets 
intersecting  each  other  at  right  angles,  than  which 
nothing  can  be  more  wearisome  to  the  eye,  especially 
if,  as  in  the  new  town  of  Edinburgh,  the  walls  be  built, 
and  the  streets  paved,  with  stone  of  the  same  grey 
colour,  producing  an  effect  which  may  truly  be  called 
dismal.     The  charm  of  London,  as  a  great  city,  is  its 
variety.     Those  who  dislike  the  high-piled  and  narrow 
streets  of  the  city,  shady  in  summer,  and  sheltered 
from  cold  winds  in  winter,  may  delight  in  the  spacious 
streets  and  squares  of  the  west  end  of  the  town :  those 
who  desire  to  contemplate  what  Dr.  Johnson  called 
"  the  full  tide  of  human  existence,"  may  visit  Cheap- 
side,  Fleet  Street,  or  the  Strand ;  Pall  Mall,  and  St. 
James'  Street,  by  some  fortunate  peculiarity  of  posi- 
tion, not  easily  defined,  look  light  and  cheerful  in  the 
heaviest  weather;  Bond  Street  is  still  the  resort  of 
gaiety  and  fashion ;  and  Regent  Street,  for  architect- 
ural effect,  ia  the  grandest  street  in  Europe.     Gr«at 


n  'm 

; 

■            i'    i     ■■■ 

♦  ;  -.1 

1      ^, 

^2 


OREAT   CITISS   OF  THE  WORLD 


improTements  have  been  made  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Strand  from  Charing  Crosa  to  Burleigh  Street,  by 
taking  down  an  immense  mass  of  small  and  old  houses, 
partly  in  narrow  streets  and  courts,  and  erecting  others 
of  large  dimensions,  and  forming  wide  and  handsome 
streets.  Here  also  has  been  erected  the  elegant  and 
commodious  structure  of  Hungerford  Market.  Another 
improvement  is  that  of  opening  a  line  northward  from 
Bridge  Street,  Blackfriars,  through  the  site  of  Fleet 
Market  and  across  Clerkenwell,  to  Islington  :  a  parallel 
line  extends  from  Waterloo  Bridge  across  the  Strand, 
past  the  portico  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  and  into 
the  northern  district  of  the  metropolis. 

London  is  the  chief  literary  emporium  of  the  king- 
dom, and  the  centre  of  intelligence  in  relation  to  afiairs 
at  home  and  abroad.  The  number  of  books  and  news- 
papers annually  published  is  astonishing.  Of  the  great 
names  that  have  adorned  the  science  and  literature  of 
England  the  world  has  heard.  Most  of  them  resided 
in  London.  No  land  has  produced  men,  superior  in 
scientific  pursuits  to  Bacon,  Newton,  Locke,  Boyle,  and 
Harvey.  The  stimulus  and  the  knowledge  they  have 
given  to  the  human  mind  can  never  be  too  highly  esti- 
mated. To  Bacon  belongs  the  glory  of  that  scientific 
method  of  reasoning  which  has  led  to  so  many  grand 
discoveries.  Around  the  head  of  Nowton  is  twined  a 
wreath  of  stars  whose  light  can  never  dim.  The  "  Prin- 
cipia"  taught  men  the  nature  of  the  mighty  system  of 
which  they  form  a  part.  Locke  was  the  first  to  give 
a  clear  view  of  the  operations,  weaknesses,  and  capaci- 
ties of  the  understanding  of  man.  Boyle  coraunicated 
an  immense  amount  of  information  in  regard  to  natural 


LONDON. 


483 


history.     Harvey  first  disclosed  the  fact  of  the  circu- 
lation  of  the  hlood,  upon  which  much  of  the  modern 
system  of  medicine  is  founded.     In  regard  to  litera- 
ture,  London    can    boast   of   as   bright   a   galaxy  of 
names  as  any  city  of  ancient  or  modern  times.     Wil- 
liam Shakspeare,  the  "myriad  minded,"  stands,  per- 
haps, unequalled  as  a  dramatic  poet.     Jonson,  Dekker, 
Webster,  Marlowe,  and  others  of  the  same  period  were 
admirable  dramatists.     Congreve,  Sheridan,  Farquhar, 
Vanbrugh,  Goldsmith,   Knowles,  and  Bourcicalt,   are 
renowned  in   the  annals  of  the  same  art.     Chaucer, 
Spenser,   Milton,   Dryden,   Pope,   Cowper,    Coleridge,' 
and  others  wrote  poetry   that  will  live  with  the  lan- 
guage.    Addison,  Johnson,  Bunyan,  Goldsmith,  and  a 
throng  of  other  prose  writers  deserve  immortal  remem- 
brance.    In  the  great  age  of  George  III.  oratory  was 
cultivated  with  a  success  almost  unrivalled.    Fox,  Pitt, 
Burke,  and  Sheridan  were  its  chief  masters. 


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BAKE  OF  INOLAMD. 


QUEBEC. 


UEBEC,  the  capital  of  Lower  Canada, 
is  one  of  the  strongest  cities  in  Ame- 
rica, and  one  of  the  most  famous  for 
its  historical  associations.  It  was 
founded  by  the  French  in  1608.  In 
1759,  the  gallant  English  general, 
Wolfe,  surmounted  the  heights  of 
Abraham,  and  defeated  Montcalm, 
the  brave  defender  of  Quebec,  Both 
commanders  lost  their  lives.  The  city  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  English.  The  French  under  M.  de  St.  Levi  made 
an  attempt  to  retake  it,  but  failed.  At  tlie  enruing 
peace,  Quebec  was  coded  with  the  rest  of  Canada  to  the 
English.  (1763.)  In  1775  the  patriots  of  the  United 
Colonies,  under  the  command  of  Montgomery  and 
Arnold  made  an  attempt  upon  Quobce,  but  were  re- 
pulsed. The  brave  Montgomery  fell.  The  American 
loss  was  about  700  men.  The  city  has  ever  since 
remained  in  the  hands  of  its  first  conquerors. 

Quebec  is  situated  on  a  promontory  on  the  side  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  180  miles  below  Montreal,  nearly 
400  miles  from  the  sea,  700  west  by  north  from  Hali- 
fax, and  740  from  Washington. 

The  population  of  the  city  and  suburbs  is  stated  at 
about  50,000.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabi- 
tants are  Roman  Catholics,  and  the  French  language 


486 


QUEBKC. 


iS  most  in  use.     The  promontory  on  -nhich  Quebec  13 
built  is  formed  by  the  St.  Lawrence  and  St.  Charles, 
and  is  the  termination  of  a  ridge  of  land,  generally 
from  one  to  tAvo  miles  wide,  which  runs  from  east  to 
west.    On  the  north  it  has  the  bold  promontory  of  Cape 
Diamond,  rising  almost  perpendicularly  345  feet  above 
the  water ;  and  across  it  at  the  north-east,  or  lower  end 
the  city  is  built.     The  fortifications  extending  across 
the  peninsula,  shut  in  the  ground  on  which  the  city 
stands,  the  circuit  of  Avhich  is  about  two  and  a  half 
miles.     It  is  divided  into  two  parts,  upper  and  lower. 
Upper  Quebec  is  situated  on  the  side  of  Cape  Diamond, 
which  slopes  to  the  north,  towards  the  river  St.  Charles. 
It  is  separated  from  the  lower  town  by  a  line  of  steep 
rocks,  which  run  from  the  cape  towards  the  west.    The 
lower  to-,n  is  situated  immediately  under  Cape  Dia- 
mond, on  ground  considerably  raised,  to  prevent  its 
being  overflowed,  as  formerly  at  flood  tide.    The  streets 
run  from  the  upper  side  of  Cape  Diamond  down  to  the 
St.  Charles,  a  distance  of  about  half  a  mile.    They  are 
of  considerable  breadth,  and  the  houses  are  large  and 
commodious.     The  houses  next   the  river  have  very 
extensive  warehouses  attached   to  them,  and  vessels 
come  close  to  the  wharves  to  discharge  their  cargoes. 
The  communication  from  the  lower  to  the  upper  town 
is  by  a  winding  street,  at  the  top  of  which  is  a  fortified 
gate.     "Quebec,"  says  Professor   Silliman,   "for  an 
American  city,  is  certainly  a  very  peculiar  town :  a 

military  town— most  compactly  and  permanently  built 

stone  its  sole  material — environed,  as  to  its  most  import- 
ant parts,  by  walls  and  gates— and  defended  by  numer- 
ous heavy  cannon— garrisoned  by  troops,  having  the 


\N^- 


V..^»'t 


X7 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE  WORLD. 


487 


arms,  the  costume,  the  music,  the  discipline  of  Europe- 
foreign  in  language,  features  and  origin,  from  most  of 
those  whom  they  are  sent  to  defend— founded  upon  a 
rock,  and  in  its  higher  parts  overlooking  a  great  extent 
of  country— between  three  and  four  hundred  miles  from 
the  ocean— in  the  midst  of  a  great  continent,  and  yet 
displaying  fleets  of  foreign  merchantmen,  in  its  fine, 
capacious  bay,  and  showing  all  the  bustle  of  a  crowded 
seaport — its  streets  narrow,  populous,  and  winding  up 
and  down  almost  mountainous  declivities — situated  in 
the  latitude  of  the  finest  parts  of  Europe — exhibiting  in 
its  environs  the  beauty  of  a  European  capital,  and  yet, 
in  winter,  smarting  with  the  cold  of  Siberia — governed 
by  people  of  different  language  and  habits  from  the 
mass  of  the  population — opposed  in  religion,  and  yet 
leaving  that  population  without  taxes,  and  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  every  privilege,  civil  and  religious.     Such 
are  some  of  the  important  features  which  strike  a 
stranger  in  the  city  of  Quebec."     The  upper  town  is 
the  seat  of  government:  and  the  principal  residence  of 
the  military.     Great  improvements  have  recently  been 
made  in  the  style  of  buildings,  and  many  of  the  private 
dwellings,  and  several  of  the  public  buildings  are  spa- 
cious and  elegant.    There  is  a  French  seminary  or 
college,  containing  usually  more  than  200  pupils ;  but 
much  less  attention  is  paid  to  education  than  in  the 
principal  cities  of  the  United  States.    Quebec  is  better 
fortified  than  any  other  town  in  America.    Its  strength 
has  been  greatly  increased  within  a  few  years.    It  is  so 
well  defended  at  all  points,  as  to  render  it  abundantly 
adequate  to  repel  any  force  that  could  approach  it. 


NEW  YORK. 

HE  city  of  New  York  is  tlie 
metropolis  of  America.  In 
wealth,  commerce  nnd  popu- 
lation it  is  far  beyond  every 
other  city  upon  the  continent. 
It  is  situated  on  Manhattan 
Island,  at  the  confluence  of 
Hudson  or  North  river  with  a 
strait  called  East  river,  which 
connects  Long  Island  sound  with  the  harbour  of  New 
York. 

The  mouth  of  the  Hudson  river  was  discovered  by 
Henry  Hudson,  an  English  navigator,  in  September, 
1609.  In  1612,  the  Dutch  erected  a  fort  on  Manhat- 
tan island,  and  began  a  settlement,  which  they  named 
New  Amsterdam.  In  1614,  an  English  expedition 
under  Captain  Argal,  took  possession  of  the  Dutch 
fort ;  but  the  English  government  afterwards  agreed  to 
l6t  it  remstiu  in  the  hands  of  the  Dutch  for  60  years. 
In  1629,  the  Dutch  enlarged  their  fort  and  settle- 
ment, and  appointed  Wouter  Van  Twiller  governor, 
and  he  held  the  oflSce  for  9  years.  In  1647,  Governor 
Stuyvesant  arrived.  He  held  the  office  until  1664, 
when  the  English  took  possesion  of  the  town,  and  named 
it  New  York. 
The  Dutch  retook  the  city  in  July  1673,  but  surren- 


^t^m\mttm.tmm 


GREAT  CnlES  UV  TlIK  WOULD. 


489 


dered  it  to  tlio  English  in  tho  next  year.     All   the 
inhabitants  wore  then  rerpiiml  to  t/tko  tho  oath  of 
allegiance  to  tho  English  govornmnnt.     In  lfJ86,  James 
II.  aboliahed  tho  reprcsontativo  nynUjin  at  New  York 
and  forbado  tho  use  of  printing  proMHOH.     In  1711    a 
Blave-markct  Mas  established  in  Wall  wtrcot,  near  the 
East  river,  and  in  the  next  year  there  was  an  ihsurrec- 
tion  of  the  ncgroea,  who  fired  the  city  in  sovorol  places, 
and  killed  some  of  the  inhabitatits.     Nineteen  of  them 
were  executed.     In  1741  occurred  tho  famous  ''negro 
plot,"  when  the  city  contained  12,000  inhabitants,  one- 
sixth  of  whom  were  nlaves.     A  plot  no  doubt  existed, 
but  the  account  of  it  was  greatly  exaggerated  and  tho 
fears  of  the  inhabitants  excite.l  by  repeated  fires  and 
robberies.     Some  Irish  Catholics  wer«  implicated  with 
the  negroes.    One  hundred  and  fifty  negroes  and  twenty 
white  persons  were  committed  to  prison  ;  of  whom  65 
were  convicted  and  78  confessed.     Thirteen  negroes 
were  burned  at  the  stake,  at  tho  present  intersection 
of  Pearl  and  Chatham  streets;  20  were  hung,  one  in 
chains.;  78  were  transported  and  r>0  discharged.    This 
was  a  period  of  fearful  excitement.     At  tho  time  of 
the  passage  of  the  Stamp  Act  and  other  oppressive 
measures  by  the  British  parliament,  the  people  of  New 
York  displayed  their  attachment  to  liberty  by  the  bum- 
mg  of  effigies.    On  the  26th  of  August,  1770,  after  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island,  the  city  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  British;  and  on  tho  21st  of  September, 
m  the  same  year,  a  great  fire  consumed  498  houses 
nearly  one-eighth  of  the  city.    New  York  was  not  long 
m  recovering  from  this  desolating  calamity.   The  inhab- 
itants were  enterprising,  and  their  wealth  and  industry 


490 


NEW   YORK. 


Boon  rebuilt  the  burned  district.    The  city  remained  in 
the  hands  of  the  British  until  the  close  of  the  war  of 
independence.     On  the  25th  of  November,  1783,  the 
enemy  evacuated  New  York,  and  Gen.  Washington  and 
his  array  soon  after  entered  it.     A  large  number  of 
tories  accompanied  the  British  in  their  retreat.     In 
1785,  the  first  Congress  of  the  United  States,  after 
the  war,  was  organized  in  the  City  Hall  at  the  corner 
of  Wall  and  Nassau  streets,  and  in  April  four  years 
afterwards,  Washington  was  inaugurated  President  of 
the  United  States,  in  this  city.    New  York  rapidly  in- 
creased in  size,  wealth,  population,  and  commerce,  and 
took  rank  as  the  most  important  city  of  America.   The 
cholera  in  1882  and  the  great  fire  in  1835  could  not 
check  the  metropolis  in  its  onward  career.     The  fiie 
occurred  on  the  night  of  the  IGth  of  December,  1835, 
and  swept  over  between  30  and  forty  acres  of  the  most 
valuable  part  of  the  city,  covered  with  stores  and  filled 
with  merchandize.     The  number  of  buildings  burned 
was  648,  and  the  amount  of  property  destroyed  was 
estimated  at  $18,000,000.     But  the  burnt  district  was 
immediately  rebuilt,  with  additional  convenience  and 
beauty.     Since  that  event.  New  York  has  rapidly  in- 
creased in  wealth  and  population.  According  to  the  cen- 
sus of  1850,  the  city  containa  510,000  inhabitants.   But 
Brooklyn  on  Long  Island,  Williamsburg  on  the  East 
River,  Jersey  City  and  Now  Brighton  on  Staten  Island, 
and  other  important  towns  should  be  considered  as 
parts  of  New  York— their  business  being  interwoven 
with  that  of  the  main  city,  and  their  residents  for  the 
most  part  being  connected  with  or  dependent  upon  the 
same  great  commerce  which  has  peopled  this  quarter. 


OREAT   CITIKU   OP  THE   WORLD. 


491 


With  these  auburbs,  New  York  has  about  700,000 
inhabitants. 

The  compact  part  of  the  city  is  situated  on  the  S. 
end  of  New  York,  or  Manhattan  Island.    The  chartered 
Umits  embrace  the  whole  island,  which  is  of  the  same 
extent  with  the  county.     The  island  extends  from  the 
Battery,  on  the  S.  point  of  the  island,  13J  m.  to  Kings- 
bridge,  in  its  N.  part ;  and  has  an  average  breadth  gf 
1  m.  and  three-fifths.    The  greatest  breadth  is  on 
the  line  of  88th  street,  where  its  breadth  is  about 
^  m.   and   it  contains  about   14,000  acres.     It  i» 
bounded  on  the  N.  by  Harlem  river ;  on  the  E.  by  East 
river  or  strait,  which  separates  it  from  Long  Island ; 
on  the  S.  by  the  harbour ;  and  on  the  W.  by  Hudson 
river,  which  separates  it  from  New  Jersey.     It  is  con- 
nected with   the  main  land  on  the  north  by  three 
bridgea,  Harlem  bridge,  Macomb's  bridge,  and  King's 
bridge.   It  is  connected  with  Long  Island  by  seven  fer- 
ries,  four  of  which  proceed  to  Brooklyn,  and  three  to 
Williamsburg,    Thus  the  insular  situation  of  New  York 
proves  no  serious  disadvantage.    The  ferries  to  Brook- 
lyn  are  by  far  the  most,  important,  as  many  persons 
who  do  business  in  New  York  reside  in  that  city. 
The  harbour  is  spacious  and  safe,  the  inner  harbour 
extending  8  m.  from  the  Narrows  to  the  city,  and 
several  miles  farther  up  both  the  North  and  East  rivers, 
but  particularly  the  latter.     It  is  about  25  m.  in  cir- 
cumference, and  the  largest  vessels  come  to  its  wharves. 
Beside?  this,  it  has  an  outer  hfrbour,  extending  from 
the  Narrows  to  Sandy  Hook,  consisting  of  Raritan  ba^. 
Sandy  Hook,  on  which  is  a  light  house,  is  X9  m.  from 
the  city;  and  at  this  point,  thei-e  are  27  feet  of  wftter 


r 


499 


NBW  TORK. 


on  the  bar  at  high  tl«le,  and  21  feet  at  low  tide. 

Wivhin  Sandy  Hook  there  is  a  good  anchorage.     The 

harbour  is  ent<^red  not  only  from  the  ocean  at  Sarnly 

Hook  and  throu,  ''  the  Narrows,  but  on  the  N.  E.  from 

Long  Island  sound,  and  on  the  S.  W.  through  the  Kills 

and  Staten  Island  sound.    By  an  accurate  enumeration 

made  March  16th,  1844,  there  were  found  to  be  1011 

vessels  in  the  harbour  of  New  York,  viz.,  121  ships,  43 

barques,  101  brigs,  two  galliots,  208  schooners,  and  536 

ordinary  sloops  and  schooners,  all  of  which  are  licensed 

at  the  custom  house,  lying  at  a  total  extent  of  about  7 

m.  of  wharves.     To  these  should  bo  added,  when  the 

Hudson  river  opens,  about  90  steamboats,  90  tow  boats 

of  from  100  to  400  tons  burden,  and  200  canal  boats. 

Several  islands  within  the  inner  harbour  are  attached  to 

the  eity,  which  are  Governor's,  Bedlow's,  and  Ellis's 

islands,  on  all  of  which  are  strong  fortifications ;  and 

Blackwell's,  Great  Barn,  and  Randall's  islands,  m  the 

East  river.     The  excellence  of  its  harbour,  and  other 

great  natural  advantages,  have  contributed  to  make  New 

York  the  second  commercial  city  on  the  globe. 

The  surface  of  the  island  was  originally  uneven  and 
rough,  as  is  now  the  case  in  the  northern  parts,  with 
occasional  low  valleys  and  marshy  swamps;  but  the 
hilb  in  the  southern  part  of  the  island  have  been 
levelled,  and  the  swamps  and  marshes  filled  up.  Many 
creeks  and  inlets  on  the  margins  of  the  rivers  have  also 
disappeared,  and  the  large  ledge  of  rocks  which  occu- 
pied the  site  of  the  Battery,  has  long  ,  e  bcpn  buried 
beneath  the  made  ground  which  coB'i  -^a  ih'M.  beau- 
tiful promenade. 

The  streets  were  originally  laid  out  according  to  the 


GREAT  CITTB8  OF  THE  TTORLD. 


i 


make  of  tho 


803 


irl,  and 


them 


gr()>  na,  and  souio  of  them  were  crookeu  • 
and  m  imitation  of  European  cities,  many  of  them  were' 
narrow.     But  in  later  ti.nes  they  have  been  widened 
and  improved  at  a  great  expense.    As  instances  of  this 
among  others,  John  street  and  West  Broad  nay  may  be 
particularly  mentioned  as  well  as  many  others. '  In 
latter  times  care  has  been  taken  to  lay  out  the  streets 
straight,  and  of  an  ample  width.     This  is  particularly 
true  of  all  the  N.  part  of  the  city,  which  was  laid  out 
under   the  direction  of  Governeur  Morris,  De  Witt 
Umton,  and  others,  commissioners  appointed  by  the 
legislature   for   this   purpose,    and   surveyed    I  /  Mr 
John   Randall,  Jr.,  completed  in  1821,  after  J  .vine 
occupied  ten  years.     No  city  can  exhibit  a  more  beau- 
tit ul  plan  than  this  portion  of  the  city  of  New  York 
which  extends  to  154th  street,  about  ten  miles  N   of 
the  Battery. 

Broadway  extends  from  tho  Battery  8  m.  to  Union- 
square,  where  it  joins  the  fourth-avenue.     It  is  80  feet 
wide,  perfectly  straight,  occupies  the  height  of  land 
between  the  two  rivers,  and  has  generally,  particularly 
in  Its  S.  part,  an  excellent  drainage.     It  is  well  built 
with  many  line  houses,  and  large  retail  stores.     It  is 
the  great  promenade  of  the  city,  and  much  resorted  to 
in  pleasant  weather  by  tho  gay  and  fashionable.    Pearl- 
street,  between  Broadway  and  the  East  river,  is  in 
a  crescent  form,  over  a  mile  long,  and  is  the  principal 
seat  of  the  wholesale  dry  goods  and  hardware  business 
which  has  also  extended  into  Cedar,  Pine,  and  other 
adjacent  streets.     Water  and  Front  streets,  between 
i  eai  l-street,  and  the  East  river,  is  occupied  chiefly  by 
wholesale  grocers,  commission  merchants,  and  mecha- 


"r"«(| 


494 


NEW  YORK. 


nics  connected  with  the  shipping  business.  South- 
street,  extending  along  the  margin  of  East  river, 
contains  the  warehouses  and  oflBces  of  the  principal 
shipping  merchants.  In  front  of  it  is,  at  all  times,  a 
dense  forest  of  masts.  Wall-street  extends  from  Broad- 
way to  the  East  river,  and  is  occupied  by  banks,  insu- 
rance oflSces,  newspaper  and  brokers'  offices,  has  Trinity 
church  at  its  head,  the  Custom-house  and  Merchant's 
Exchange,  and  many  fine  granite  buildings,  which  has 
caused  it  to  be  denominated  the  granite  street ;  and  is 
the  centre  of  the  heaviest  money  transactions  in  the 
United  States.  The  Bowery  is  a  wide  and  extensive 
street  E.  of  Broadway,  running  N.  and  S.  connected 
with  the  Third  avenue,  which  is  Macadamized  to  Hai*- 
lera,  and  forms  the  principal  entrance  to  the  city  from 
the  N.  E.  East  Broadway,  and  parallel  to  it  Madison, 
Henry,  and  Monroe  streets,  running  a  little  N.  of  E. 
and  S.  of  W.,  are  broad  and  straight  streets,  and  hand- 
somely built.  Bleeker,  Bond,  and  other  streets  in  the 
N.  part  of  the  city  are  beautifully  built,  and  have 
become  a  fashionable  place  for  residences.  Canal- 
street,  half  a  mile  N.  of  the  City-hall,  and  now  much 
below  the  centre  of  the  population,  is  a  wide  street, 
with  a  large  covered  canal  under  it,  is  occupied  exten- 
sively by  stores,  and  is  the  seat  of  an  extensive  retail 
business.  It  crosses  Broadway,  nearly  at  right  angles, 
and  extends  to  Hudson  river.  Ther^  are  other  streets 
which  deserve  a  particular  notice,  especially  Greenwich- 
street,  a  long,  wide,  and  nearly  straight  street,  extend- 
ing N.  from  the  Battery  nearly  two  miles  and  a  half, 
parallel  to  Hudson  river,  which  has  many  stores  and 
fine  buildings ;  and  Hudson  street  E.  of  it,  and  paralle 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


495 


to  It,  which  13  wide  and  8traight,  extending  from  Cham- 
bcrs-strect  to  tlie  ninth  avenue,  over  a  mile  and  three 
quartos  ]nn;r,  ,„d  uell  huilt  in  many  of  its  parts, 
thaliiam-strcet,  iiauid  in  hn^umr  of  the  Earl  of  Chat- 
ham, e.  tending  from  B.oadway  to  Chatham-square,  at 
the  con.mencment  of  the  Bowery,  h  a  great  thorough- 
fare  and  particularly  distinguished  for  its  numerous 
clothitig  stores. 

The  city  must  be  considered  somewhat  deficient  in 
public  grounds  or  places,  but  it  has  several  importani 
ones.    In  addition  to  several  triangular  areas,  as  Hano- 
ver-square.  Franklin-square,  and  Chatham-square,  as 
they   are  denominated,  with   some  others   of  a   like 
description,  there  are  several  more  important  public 
phiccs.     T/ie  Battery,  at  the  south-eastern  end  of  the 
island,  is  situated  at  the  junction  of  Hudson  and  East 
rivers.     It  is  in  the  form  of  a  crescent,  and  contains 
about  11  acres  of  ground,  beautifully  laid  out  with  grass- 
puts  an.l  gravelled  walks,  and  shaded  with  trees.    Cas- 
t^e  Garden  is  built  on  a  mole,  and  connected  with  the 
Battery  by  a  bridge.    It  was  originally  erected  as  a  for- 
tihcation,    and    having   become   unnecessary   for   this 
purpose,  was  ceded  by  the  United  States  to  the  corpo- 
ration of  the  city  in  1823.     Within  its  walls  10,000 
people  can  be  accommodated  in  a  great  amphitheatre; 
and  it  IS  used  for  public  meetings  and  exhibitions.    The 
Bowling  Green  at  the  southern  termination  of  Broad- 
way, IS  an  elliptical  area,  220  feet  long  and  140  broad, 
enclosed  by  an  iron  fence.   It  was  established  before  the 
American  Revolution,  and  formerly  contained  a  leaden 
statue  of  George  III.,  which  was  converted  into  bullets 
at  that  period. 


In 

n 

liilHi 

H 

^^^H^^l 

496 


NEW  YORK. 


The  Park,  called  in  early  times  the  Commons,  is  a 
triangular  area  of  about  lOJ  acres,  lying  between 
Broadway,  Chatham,  and  Chambers  streets,  is  laid  out 
with  walks,  and  planted  with  trees,  and  surrounded 
by  an  iron  fence,  which  cost  over  $16,653.  It  contains 
the  Citj  Hall,  the  New  City-Hall  or  old  Almshouse, 
and  the  Post-office.  It  has  also  toward  its  S.  part,  a 
public  fountain,  within  a  basin  about  100  feet  in  dia- 
meter, which  has  a  variety  of  jets,  which  are  occa- 
sionally changed. 

Union  place,  at  the  northern  termination  of  Broad- 
way, is  in  an  elliptical  form,  enclosed  with  a  fine  iron 
fence,  having  a  public  fountain  in  the  centre,  with 
ornamental  jets ;  and  when  the  vicinity  shall  be  n^ore 
densely  settled,  will  be  a  delightful  breathing  place  to 
the  inhabitants.  All  these  public  grounds  are  much 
frequented  in  the  summer  season.  Farther  up  the 
city  are  other  public  squares,  as  Madison-square, 
Hamilton-square,  and  others.  On  the  E.  are  Tomp- 
kins'-square  and  Bellevue,  the  latter  the  seat  of  the 
new  almshouse. 

The  city  of  New  York  has  some  superb  public  build- 
ings. The  most  splendid  of  these  is  the  Merchant's 
Exchange,  which  covers  the  whole  space  between  "Wall, 
William,  Exchange,  and  South  William  streets.  It 
has  a  somewhat  confined  situation,  and  shows  to  less 
advantage  than  if  it  were  surrounded  by  open  grounds. 
It  is  built  in  the  most  substantial  form  of  blue  Quincy 
granite,  and  is  200  feet  long  by  171  to  144  feet  wide, 
77  feet  high  to  the  top  of  the  cornice,  and  124  to  the 
top  of  the  dome.  The  front  on  Wall  street  has  a 
recessed  portico  of  18  massive  Grecian-Ionic  columns, 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


497 


88  feet  high,  and  4  feet  4  inches  in  diameter,  each 
formed  from  a  solid  block  of  stone,  and  weighing  43 
tons.    It  required  the  best  application  of  the  mechanical 
powers,    aided    by   horses,    to   raise    these   enormous 
masses.     Besides  numerous  other  rooms    for  various 
purposes,  the  Exchange  in  the  centre  is  in  a  circular 
torm  80  feet  m  diameter,  with  four  recesses,  makin- 
the  length  and  breadth  each  100  feet,  the  whole  80 
feet  high,  surmounted  with  a  dome,  resting  in  part  on 
eight  Corinthian  columns  of  Italian  marble,  41  feet 
high,  and  lighted  by  a  skylight  25  feet  in  diameter. 
^    1  he  Custom  house  is  a  splendid  building,  constructed 
in  ihe  Doric  order  of  Grecian  architecture.     It  is  built 
m  the  most  substantial  manner  of  white  marble,  some- 
thing after  the  model  of  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  at  ' 
the  nead  of  Broad  street,  on  the  corner  of  Nassau  and 
Wall  streets.     The  building  is  200  feet  long,  90  feet 
wide,  and  80  feet  high.     At  the  S.  end  on  Wall-street, 
13  a  portico  of  eight  purely  Grecian-Doric  columns,  5 
feet  8  inches  in  diameter,  and  32  feet  high ;  and  on 
the  N.  end  on  Pine  street  is  a  corresponding  portico  of 
similar  columns.     The  front  portico  is  ascended  by  18 
marble  steps,  and  the  rear  portico  on  Pine-street   by 
only  three  or  four  marble  steps.    It  is  two  lofty  stories 
high  above  the  basement  story.     The  great  business 
hall  is  a  splendid  circular  room,  60  feet  in  diameter, 
with  recesses  and  galleries,  making  it  80  feet  in  dia' 
meter,  surmounted  by  a  dome,  supported  by  16  beau- 
tiful  Corinthian  columns,  30  feet  high,  ornamented  in 
the  dome  with  stucco,  and  at  top  with  a  skylight.     On 
each  side,  on  the  outside,  are  13  pilasters,  in  perfect 
keeping  with  the  pillars  on  the  two  fronts.     The  cost 


498 


NEW  YORK. 


of  tho  building  and  its  furnituro  was  $950,000 ;  and 
including  the  ground,  $1,175,000. 

Tho  City-llall,   heretofore  regarded   as   much   the 
finest  building  in  the  city,  and  one  of  the  finest  in  the 
United   States,   has   a  commanding   situation   in   the 
middle  of  the  Park,  though  somewhat  in  tho  rear,  and 
shows   to  greater   advantage  than  cither  of  the  fine 
buildings  already  described.     It  has  more  ornament 
than  cither  the  Exchange  or  the  Custom-house,  but 
less  simple  grandeur ;  though  with  its  furniture,  it  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  interesting  building  in  the  city.    It  is 
216  feet  long,  and  105  wide.     Tho  front  and  ends  are 
constructed  of  white  marble,  and  the  rear  of  brown 
freestone.     It  is  two  stories  high  above  the  basement, 
with  a  third  or  attic  story  in  the  centre  building;  and 
there  rises  from  the  centre  a  lofty  cupola,  containing  a 
city  clock  of  fine  workmanship,  and  on  the  top,  a 
colossal  statue  of  Justice.     In  the  upper  part  of  this 
cupola  is  a  room  occupied  by  a  man  whose  business  it 
is  to  give  alarm  in  cases  of  fire ;  and  from  this  ele- 
vated position,  ho  is  able  to  overlook  the  whole  city. 
Behind  this  is  another  less  elevated  cupola,  with  eight 
fine  Corinthian  columns,  which  contains  the  City-hall 
bell,  weighing  6910  pounds,  whose  deep  and  solemn 
tones  often  sound  the  knell  of  property,  and,  by  the 
different  number  of  strokes,  indicate  the  district  of  the 
city  in  which  a  fire  occurs.   The  front  of  the  City-IIall  is 
ornamented  with  columns  and  pilasters  of  the  Ionic, 
Corinthian,  and  Composite  orders,  rising  above  each 
other  in  regular  gradation.     The  building  is  entered  in 
front  by  a  flight  of  12  marble  steps.     There  are  halls 
which  lead  from  the  centre  to  each  end  of  the  building 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


499 


in  each  story.  In  the  haseincnt  and  the  stories  there 
are  28  ofliccs  and  other  public  rooms,  the  most  con- 
spicuous of  ;vhich  are  the  Governor's  room,  and  the 
chambers  of  the  common  council  and  assistant  alder- 
men. 

The  Hall  of  Justice  occupies  the  whole  space  between 
tontrc.  Elm,  Leonard,  and  Franklin  streets,  and  is  a 
unique  and  I,^•,uti^ul  building  of  the  Egyptian  archi- 
tecture. Tliis  building,  though  handsome  of  its  kind 
has  a  heavy  and  gloomy  aspect,  which  has  acquired  for 
It  the  name  of  the  Egyptian  Tombs.  It  is  constructed 
ot  a  light  coloured  granite,  from  Ilallowell,  Me. 

Among  the  churches  some  deserve  to  be  particularly 
noticed,  on  account  of  their  architecture.     The  new 
Tnnity  Episcopal  church  is  one  of  the  finest  buildings 
of  the  city,  and  the  most  complete  Gothic  structure  in 
the  United   States.     It  stands  at  the  head  of  Wall- 
street,  which  it  fronts.     It  is  in  the  finest  style  of 
English  church  architecture,  built  of  a  light  brown 
freestone,  with  much  beautifully  ornamented  sculpture 
m  Its  various  parts ;  is  192  feet  long  upon  the  outside, 
«4  feet  wide,  and  the  steeple  is  264  feet  high,  built  of 
stone  to  the  top.     Above  the  first  story  is  a  roof  which 
considerably  narrows  the  building  in  the  second  story 
as  is  common  in  the  old  churches  of  England      The 
inside  is  even  mc-e  imposing  than  the  outside.     St 
1  aul  8  Episcopal  chapel  is  situated  on  Broadway  be 
tween   Fulton  and   Vesey  streets,  and   the   burying 
ground  extends  W.  to  Church-street,  and  thus  includes 
the  whole  block,  400  by  180  feet,  surrounded  by  a 
handsome  iron  railing.     The  body  of  the  church  is  90 
by  70   feet,   with   a  beautiful  spire,  200  feet   high, 


if 


M 


'W%  > 


500 


NEW  YORK. 


painted  and  overcast  with  sand  to  resemble  brown 
freestone.  St.  John's  Episcopal  chapel  is  situated  on 
Varick-street,  directly  opposite  the  centre  of  St.  John's 
square,  is  a  building  of  fine  proportions  and  beautiful 
appearance,  was  finished  in  1810,  and  cost  over 
$200,000.  It  is  111  feet  long  and  73  wide,  built  of 
Btone,  and  has  an  admirably  proportioned  steeple,  220 
feet  high. 

Grace  Church  is  a  splendid  edifice,  entirely  con- 
structed of  marble.  Its  congregation  ranks  next  in 
wealth  to  that  of  Trinity  church. 

New  York  contains  a  large  number  of  literary  and 
charitable  associations.  The  Columbia  College  and  the 
University  of  New  York  are  the  chief  of  the  educa- 
tional  establishments.  They  are  well  conducted,  and 
extensively  patronised.  Seminaries  and  schools  of  all 
kinds  a?e  numerous. 

The  hotels  are  unsurpassed  in  the  United  States. 
The  Astor  House,  Metropolitan,  "Howard's,"  and  the 
Irving  House  nold  the  foremost  rank.  The  two  first 
mentioned  are  said  to  be  superior  to  any  thing  of  the 
kind  in  London  or  Paris.  The  public  and  private 
buildings  generally  are  lighted  with  gas.  The  most 
splendid  and  expensive  work  undertaken  by  the  city  is 
the  Croton  Waterworks.  The  aqueduct  commences 
at  the  Croton  river,  5  miles  from  Hudson  river,  in 
Westchester  county.  The  long  dam  creates  a  pond, 
covering  a  surface  of  four  hundred  acres  containinf^ 
500,000  gallons  of  water.  The  aqueduct  which  is  8 
feet  high  and  7  feet  broad,  and  built  of  bricks,  stone, 
and  cement,  proceeds  a  distance  of  38  miles,  tunnelling 
solid  rocks,  crossing   valleys   by   embankments,   and 


GREAT   CITIKS   OF  THE   WORLD. 


601 


Harlem  river  by  a  magnificent  bridge  of  stone,  to  tho 
receiving  reservoir,  at  8(ith  street.  The  water  is  of 
the  purest  river  water.  Free  hydrants  are  to  be  found 
in  most  of  the  streets.  The  estimated  cost  of  this  crrent 
work  is  .^12,000,000.  An  extcT.sive  inland  trade  cen- 
tres in  New  York  by  means  of  the  Harlem,  Erie,  and 
Hudson  railroads,  and  numerous  t'lrnpikes.  The  manu- 
factures  are  of  all  kinds,  and  reach  an  immense  value. 
The  government  of  the  city  is  entrusted  to  a  mayor, 
elected  annually,  and  a  board  of  aldermen. 


NEW  ORLEANS. 


EW  ORLEANS  is  the  prin- 
cipal commercial  city  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  Union. 
It  stands  on  the  left  bank 
of  tho  Mississippi,  100  miles 
from  the  sea  by  the  course 
of  the  river,   but  only  15 
miles  from  the  bay,  impro- 
perly called   Lake  Borgne, 
and  four  from  Lake  Ponchartrain.     New  Orleans  was 
founded  by  the  French  under  Iberville,  in  1717.     In 
1769,  it  was  occupied  by  the  Spaniards,  and  continued 
in  their  hands  for  34  years.     The  population  in  1769 
amounted  to  3190,  and  the  exports  were  already  very 
valuable.     The  commerce  suffered  by  the  restrictions 
of  the  Spaniards.     About  1785,  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment adopted  a  more  liberal  policy,  and  the  trade  of 
the  city  revived.    In  1788,  a  fire  consumed  900  houses. 
Under  the  government  of  the  Baron  Carondelet  the 
city  was  vastly  improved,  the  canal  Carondelet  con- 
structed, and  some  fortifications  begun.     On  the  21st 
of  March,  1801,  Louisiana  was  ceded  by  Spain  to  the 
French  republic,  and  on  the  30th  of  April,  1803,  Bona- 
parte, as  first  consul,  sold  it  to  the  United  States,  for 
about  $15,000,000,  and  it  was  taken  possession  of  on 
the  30th  of  November.     The  population  of  the  city  did 


-_l! 


504 


ORKAT  CrrtES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


not  then  exceed  8,056.  The  Roma  \  Catholic  religion 
was  the  only  ono  allowed  publicly.  In  1804  New 
Orleans  was  made  a  port  of  entry  and  delivery,  and  in 
the  next  year,  a  city  charter  was  granted.  Early  in 
December,  1814,  the  British  approached  New  Orleans 
with  about  8000  men,  by  the  way  of  Lakes  Borgnc  and 
Ponchartrain.  The  American  gunboats  were  compelled 
to  surrender,  after  a  terrific  resistance,  in  which  the 
British  loss  was  about  250  men.  Gen.  Jackson  had 
prepared  an  extensive  system  of  defence  for  New 
Orleans.  On  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  L  tcember,  the 
American  commander  made  a  furious  attack  upon  the 
British  camp,  kilN-d  and  wounded  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  men,  and  retired  with  but  little  loss.  On  the 
28th  of  December,  the  British  made  an  unsuccessful 
assault  upon  the  works  of  the  Americans.  The  decisive 
action  occured  on  the  8th  of  January,  1815,  when  the 
British  army  was  repulsed,  with  the  loss  of  two  thou- 
sand men.  Sir  Edward  Packenham,  the  British  com- 
mander-in-chief, was  killed.  General  Gibbs,  the  second 
in  command,  was  mortally  wounded.  Gen.  Lambert, 
who  succeeded  to  the  command  of  the  army,  despairing 
of  success,  retired  to  the  squadron.  Jackson,  wishing 
to  hazard  nothing,  allowed  the  enemy  to  retreat  unmo- 
lested. Peace  was  concluded  before  this  battle  occurred. 
In  May,  1816,  the  levee,  nine  miles  above  New  Orleans, 
broke  through,  and  the  back  part  of  the  city  was  inun- 
dated. The  crevasse  was  finally  closed,  chiefly  by  the 
exertions  of  Gov.  Claiborne.  The  same  calamity  has 
occurred  on  one  occasion  since,  a  vast  amount  of 
property  being   destroyed.     The  yellow  fever   is  an 


NEW  ORLEANS. 

annual  visitor  of  the  city  in  the  summer  season,  and  it 
Bomctiraes  commits  great  htwoc. 

New  Orleans  now  contains  about  140,000  inhabit- 
ants, who  i- re  Americans,  French,  Creoles,  Spaniards, 
with  a  mixture  of  almest  every  nation  on  the  globe. 
It  is  totally  unlike  any  other  city  in  the  United  States. 
The  position  of  New  Orleans  as  a  vast  commercial 
emporium  is  unrivalled ;  for  the  Mississippi,  with  its 
numerous  tributaries,  brings  to  it  for  a  market,  the 
product  of  20,000  miles  of  navigation,  and  the  immense 
resources  of  the  great  valley  are  yet  but  partially 
developed.     The  city  proper  is  in  the  form  of  a  paral- 
lelogram, running  along  .ho  river  1320  yards,  and 
extending  back  700  yards.     This  portion  of  the  city  is 
tr  iversed  by  22  streets,  forming  84  principal,  and  14 
mir^or  squares.     The  whole  extent  of  the  city,  including 
its  incorporated  fauxbourgs,  is  not  less  than  five  miles 
parallel  with  the  river,  and  it  extends  perpendicularly 
to  it  from  a  quarter  to  three  quarters  of  a  mile ;  and 
to  the  Bayou  St.  John,  two  miles.     The  houses  are 
principally  of  brick,  except  yome  of  the  ancient  and 
dilapidated  dwellings  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  and 
some  new  ones  in  the  outskirts.    The  modern  buildings, 
particularly  in  the  upper  parts  of  the  city,  or  Second 
Municipality,  are  generally  three  and  four  stories  high, 
with  elegant  and  substantial  granite  fronts.     Many  of 
the  houses  in  the  outer  parts,  are  surrounded  with 
gardens,  and  ornamented  with  orange  trees.    The  view 
of  the  city  from  the  river,  in  ascending  or  descending, 
is  beautiful,  and  on  entering  it,  the  stranger  finds  it 
diflScult  to  believe  that  he  has  arrived  at  an  American 
city.    This  remark  applies  especially  to  the  central  and 


L 


Itrr:r-T-*-^. 


606 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  TWE  WORLD. 


lower  parts,  where  the  older  btiildinpjs  arc  jmcient  nnrl 
of  foreign  construction,  where  the  mnnncrs,  cnstoms, 
and  language  are  so  various  ;  the  population  being  very 
nearly  equally  made  up  of  Americans,  French,  CreolcH, 
and  Spaniards,  with  a  mixture  of  almost  every  nation 
on  the  globe.  During  the  businesH  season,  extending 
from  the  first  of  November  until  July,  the  Levee,  in  its 
whole  extent,  is  crowded  with  vessels  of  all  sizes,  from 
all  quarters  of  the  world  ;  with  hundreds  of  largo  nnd 
splendid  steamboats,  and  numerous  barges  and  flat 
boats,  &c.  Nothing  can  present  a  more  busy,  bustling 
scene  than  the  levee  at  this  time,  the  loading  and 
unloading  of  vessels  and  steamboats,  with  1500  drny 
transporting  tobacco,  cotton,  sugar,  and  the  vario  s 
and  immense  produce  of  the  far  west.  In  1830,  •  .le 
legislature  passed  an  act  dividing  the  city  into  t'.ree 
municipalities,  ranking  them  according  to  their  popula- 
tion. The  first  includes  the  city  proper,  extending, 
with  that  width,  from  the  river  back  to  Lake  Ponchar- 
train,  and  occupying  the  centre :  the  second  adjoining 
it  above,  and  the  third  below,  both  extending  from  the 
river  to  the  lake.  Each  municipality  has  a  distinct 
council  for  the  management  of  its  internal  affairs,  which 
do  not  encroach  on  the  general  government. 

Among  the  public  buildings,  the  Cathedral  or  Church 
of  St.  Louis  on  the  Place  d'Armcs  or  Parade-Square, 
strikes  the  stranger  forcibly  by  its  venerable  and  an- 
tique air.  It  was  founded  in  1792,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  completed  in  1794.  The  lower  story  is  of  a  rus- 
tic order,  flanked  at  each  of  their  front  angles  by  hexa- 
gonal towers,  projecting  one  half  of  their  diameter, 
crowned  by  low  spires.     The  second  story  is  of  the 


I 


Romt 
ment 
below 
a  be] 
sound 


m;w  oiu.kans. 


607 


CllOnCIl   OF   hi.    LM  IK,   Nl.w    OIILKAKI. 


Roman  Doric  order.  Abovo,  on  the  apex  of  the  pedi. 
mcnt  of  this  story,  rises  tlic  principal  turret,  8nu.,ro 
below,  about  20  feet  hi^r],,  ,„,!  hexagonal  above,  with 
a  belfry  with  apertures  on  each  side  to  kt  out  the 
sound,  with  an  elevated  pinnacle  above.     Every  Satur- 


i 


If 


508 


QREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


day  evening,  by  the  conditions  of  its  erection,  masses 
are  offered  for  the  soul  of  its  founder,  Don  Andr^,  and 
at  sunset  on  that  day,  the  tolling  of  its  bell  recalls  his 
memory  to  the  citizens.  On  the  right  of  it,  looking 
from  the  square,  is  a  large  building  of  the  Tuscan  and 
Ionic  orders,  two  stories  high,  occupied  by  various 
offices  in  the  lower  stories,  and  in  the  second  story 
by  the  court-rooms  of  the  parish,  district  and  criminal 
courts,  with  the  offices  for  their  clerks.  On  the  left  of 
the  cathedral  is  a  building,  corresponding  to  the  one 
last  described,  the  lower  story  containing  the  city 
guard-room  and  the  police  prison,  and  above  the  offices 
of  the  mayor,  the  city  treasurer,  the  comptroller,  and 
the  common  council-room.  The  second  Presbyterian 
church  is  finely  located,  fronting  on  La  Fayette-square, 
the  handsomest  public  place  in  the  city.  It  is  of  the 
Grecian  Doric  order,  with  a  fine  portico.  The  basement 
is  of  granite,  the  remainder  of  brick,  plastered  to  imitate 
stone.  It  was  completed  in  July,  1835,  and  cost 
$55,000.  In  the  court  in  front,  is  a  neat  obelisk,  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Rev.  Sylvester  Larned,  the  first  Pres- 
byterian pastor  in  the  city,  who  died  in  1820,  at  the 
early  age  of  24,  deservedly  lamented.  The  new  Method- 
ist Episcopal  church,  corner  of  Poydras  and  Carondelet 
streets,  is  of  the  Grecian  Doric  order,  copied  from  the 
temple  of  Theseus  at  Athens.  It  has  a  fine  portico, 
and  a  steeple  rising  from  an  octangular  obelisk,  resting 
on  a  lofty  pedestal  of  Egyptian  archit  ture,  combining 
novelty,  grandeur,  and  beauty.  The  steeple  is  170 
feet  high  from  the  side-walk,  and  the  building  was  com- 
pleted in  "^.837,  at  an  expense  of  ^50,000.  The  first 
Congregational  church  is  a  plain  brick  edifice  in  the 


NEW   ORLEANS. 


609 


Gothic  style  of  architecture,  finished  in  1819,  at  an 
expense,  including  the  cost  of  the  ground,  of  $70,000. 
Rev.  Sylvester  Larned,  its  first  pastor,  died  of  the 
epidemic  in   1820.     St.  Antoine's,   or  the  Mortuary 
chapel,  at  the  corner  of  lOonti  and  Rampart  streets, 
was  erected  as  a  place  for  the  exhibition  of  the  bodies 
of  the  dead,  and  the  performance  of  the  funeral  cere- 
monies according  to  the  Roman  Catholic  ritual.     It  is 
a  neat  edifice  of  the  Gothic  composite  order,  and  cost 
$16,000.     All  the  funeral  ceremonies  of  the  Roman 
Catholics  are  performed  here.     The  Ursuline  chapel, 
is  a  building  in  the  quaint  old  style  of  architecture, 
erected,  according  to  a  Spanish  inscription  on  a  marble 
tablet,  in  1787,  and  is  an  interesting  monument  of 
former  times.     The  State-house,  formerly  the  Charity 
hospital,  was  purchased  by  the  state  in  1834.     It  con- 
sists of  a  centre  building  and  two  detached  wings.     It 
occupies   a   whole   square   between   Canal  and  other 
streets.     The  entrance  from  Canal-street  is  through 
ground  laid  out  and  ornamented  as  a  pleasure  ground, 
and  neatly  kept.     The  principal  building  is  occupied 
by  the  chambers  for  the  senate  and  house  of  represent- 
atives,  and  ofiices  for   the  clerks   and   others.     The 
wings  are  occupied  with  ofiices  for  the  governor,  the 
secretary  of  state,    the   treasurer,   and   other   public 
ofiicers.     The  new  Charity  hospital  is  a  large  building, 
completed  in  1834,  at  an  eirpense,  including  the  ground, 
of  $149,571.    The  old  Charity  hospital,  (now  the  State- 
house)  was  purchased  by  the  state  for  $125,000,  for 
bonds  payable  in  fifty  years  at  five  per  cent,  interest. 
The  new  Charity  hospital  is  290  feet  long  and  three 
stories  high,  and  is  entered  from  Common-street  under 


510 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


a  Doric  portico.  The  cupola  presents  a  magnificent 
view  of  the  city  and  its  environs.  The  lower  story  is 
occupied  by  the  library,  the  physicians'  and  surgeons' 
rooms,  a  lecture  room  for  the  medical  college,  &c.,  and 
the  second  and  third  stories  are  divided  into  wards  for 
the  patients,  and  rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity,  who  devote  themselves  to  an  attend- 
ance on  the  indigent  sick.  It  is  calculated  to  contain  540 
patients.  The  grounds  around  it  are  handsomely  im- 
proved and  neatly  kept.  It  is  d  noble  cluirity,  rendered 
peculiarly  necessary  by  the  sickness  which  often  prevails 
at  certain  seasons  in  New-Orleans,  particularly  among 
strangers,  who  are  often  cui-ed  in  this  place,  while  others 
are  carried  from  it  to  their  long  home.  The  Franklin 
Infirmavy  is  a  private  hospital,  fronting  on  the  Pon- 
chartrain  railroad.  It  is  a  beautiful  building,  Go  by  55 
feet,  and  two  stories  high,  with  an  imposing  portico  in 
front  surrounded  by  handsome  shrubbery,  having  at- 
tached to  it  a  variety  of  buildings,  and  can  accommo- 
date 100  patients.  Several  of  the  markets  are  large 
and  commodious  structures.  Poydras-street  market  is 
402  feet  long  and  42  feet  wide.  The  vegetable  market 
is  172  feet  long,  and  cost  $25,800.  The  meat  market 
is  built  of  brick,  on  the  levee,  and  extends  from  Ann 
to  Main  streets,  is  a  striking  object  as  the  city  is 
approached  by  water,  and  cost  about  $30,000.  St. 
Mary's  market  is  in  the  rusticated  Doric  style,  in  the 
second  municipality,  built  of  brick  and  plastered  to 
imitate  granite,  480  feet  long  and  42  wide,  and  cost 
$47,000.  It  was  rented  in  1838  for  $24,650.  Wash- 
ington market,  in  the  third  municipality,  is  designed  to 
be  a  fine  structure,  and  is  but  partially  completed. 


n 


NEW   ORLEANS.  ^H 

The  theatres  are  among  the  prominent  buildings  of 
New  Orleans.  The  Orleans  theatre  is  a  spacious  edi- 
fice, of  the  Roman  Doric,  and  a  mixture  of  the  Corinth- 
ian and  Composite  orders,  and  cost  $180,000.  The 
performances  are  in  the  French  language.  The  Camp- 
street,  or  American  theatre  is  60  feet  wide  and  160 
deep,  and  cost,  with  its  ground  and  furniture,  $120,000. 
It  is  in  the  second  municipality,  and  can  accommodate 
1100  persons.  Several  cotton  presses  are  among  the 
imposing  structures  of  the  city.  The  Orleans  Cotton 
Press  is  on  ground  632  feet  long  and  308  wide,  which 
is  nearly  covered  with  buildings.  It  contains  a  centre 
b)  .diug  three  stories  high,  surmounted  by  a  cupola, 
waich  affords  a  fine  view  of  the  city.  The  wings  are 
two  stories  high,  and  very  extensive.  It  presses  on  an 
average  150,000  bales  of  cotton  annually,  but  its  capa- 
city is  much  greater.  There  are  other  cotton  presses. 
Several  of  the  banks  have  fine  buildings,  and  some  of 
the  hotels  are  magnificent.  Two  of  these  hotels,  one 
of  which  contains  the  exchange,  cost  $600,000  each. 
The  United  States  Branch  Mint  has  an  edifice  282  feet 
long  and  108  feet  deep,  with  two  wings  29  by  81  feet, 
the  whole  three  stories  higl,  which  cost  $182,000.  The 
city  is  supplied  with  water  raised  by  a  steam  engine 
from  the  Mississippi  river,  into  a  reservoir,  constructed 
on  an  artificial  mound,  21  feet  high  at  its  baae.  The 
reservoir  is  250  feet  square,  built  of  bricks,  and  plas- 
tered with  hydraulic  cement.  It  is  divided  into  four 
compartments,  to  allow  the  water  to  settle  before  it  is 
distributed  over  the  city  in  cast  iron  pipes. 

New  Orleans  is  often  familiarly  called  the  Crescent 
City,  from  its  form ;  for  though  the  itreet*  are  straight 


612 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE  WORLD, 


those  Tvhich  follow  the  river  have  two  turns  at  large 
angles,  giving  it  something  of  this  form.  The  river 
opposite  to  the  city  is  half  a  mile  wide,  and  from  100 
to  160  feet  deep,  and  it  preserves  the  name  width  to 
near  its  entrance  into  the  gulf  of  Mexico.  On  the  bar 
at  its  mouth  it  has  a  depth  of  from  13|  to  16  feet  of 
water,  with  as  oft  muddy  bottom.  Large  and  poweiful 
steam  tow-boats,  some  of  which  will  tow  six  large  ves- 
sels, are  constantly  employed  to  facilitate  the  passage 
of  vessels  to  and  fro  from  the  ffulf. 

New  Orleans  retains  the  general  characterof  the  com- 
mercial city  of  its  founders— the  French.  The  people 
are  bustling,  lively,  sociable,  and  fond  of  excitement 
and  amusement.  Gambling,  cock-fighting,  horse-racing, 
and  fighting  are  common  rices. 


m  mil  tmuaoa. 


MEXICO. 


T^v  EXICO,  tho  capital  of  the 
"^Q  republic  of  the  same  name, 
^^J  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
;V  as  well  as  populous  cities 
upon  tho  American  conti- 
nent. The  original  city  was  called 
Tenochtitkn.  It  was  built  on  a  group 
of  islands  in  the  lake  Tezcuco,  and 
founded  in  1825.  The  city  was  connected  with  tho 
main  land  by  three  principal  causeways,  of  stone  and 
earth,  extending  from  2  to  3  miles  over  the  surround- 
ing m^irshes.  These  dikes  still  exist,  and  their  number 
has  since  been  increased.  They  form  at  present  paved 
causeways  across  the  marshy  grounds,  which  were  for- 
merly covered  with  water;  and  being  of  considerable 
elevation,  are  useful  in  securing  the  city  from  inunda- 
tion. The  better  to  preserve  the  city  from  the  chance 
of  this  calamity,  a  great  drain  was  commenced  in  1607, 
which  has  reduced  the  lakes  of  Zimpango  and  San 
Christoval  within  comparatively  narrow  limits,  and 
pi-evented  their  waters  in  the  rainy  season  from  flowing 
into  the  lake  of  Tezcuco,  and  threatening,  as  they 
sometimes  did,  to  submerge  the  city.  When  first  dis- 
covered by  the  Spaniards,  Mexico  was  a  rich  and 
populous  city ;  the  seat  of  government,  religion,  and 
trade.     According  to  Cortez,  it  was  as  large  as  Seville 


=ii 


iSREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


615 


or  Cordova,  ^ras  \rell  built  and  well  supplied  with 
various  products ;  but  these  are  the  statements  of  par- 
ties naturally  disposed  to  magnify  their  own  services. 
The  city  was  captured  by  the  Spaniards  in  1521,  after 
a  protracted  siege  in  which  it  was  nearly  destroyed. 
Spain  then  gained  possession  of  the  whole  of  the  terri- 
tory of  Mexico.  The  capital  was  rebuilt.  It  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards  until  the  revolution  of 
1821,  when  the  patriots  gained  possession  of  it.  Since 
that  time  Mexico  has  been  the  capital  of  the  Mexican 
republic.  In  the  frequent  revolutions  it  has  changed 
hands,  and  has  been  the  scene  of  many  a  hard  strife. 
In  1847,  Gen.  Winfield  Scott,  with  a  United  States 
army,  captured  Mexico,  after  a  two  days  struggle  and 
the  surmounting  of  great  obstacles.  The  United  States 
forces  retained  possession  of  the  city  until  the  treaty 
of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  in  1848,  when  it  was  surren- 
dered to  the  Mexican  goverment. 

The  city  stands  nearly  in  the  centre  of  an  elevated 
plain  space,  containing  1700  square  miles,  one-tenth  of 
which  is  covered  by  lakes,  and  surrounded  by  mountains. 
The  ground  on  which  the  city  is  built  is  swampy.  The 
largest  buildings  are  erected  on  piles.  The  climate  is 
mild  and  healthy.  Is  is  said  by  Humboldt,  to  be 
*'  undoubtedly  the  finest  city— Philadelphia  excepted— 
ever  built  by  the  Europeans  upon  this  continent."  The 
architecture  is  generally  of  a  very  pure  style,  and 
many  of  the  buildings  are  noble  structures.  Hewn 
stone  is  used  for  edifices  of  all  kinds.  The  gates  and 
balustrades  are  of  Biscay  iron,  ornamented  with  bronze, 
and  the  houses,  which  are  three  or  four  stories  high, 
have  flat,  terraced   roofs,  like   those  in  Italy.     The 


II 


516 


MEXICO. 


Streets  generally  cross  each  other  ^t  right  angles,  and 
are  wide,  and  well-paved  with  flag  stones,  but  hot 
lighted  or  watched  at  night,  so  that  robberies  and 
assassinations  are  frequent.     Nearly  all  the  houses  are 
hollow  squares,  with  open  courts,  surrounded  by  colon- 
nades, and  ornamented  with  plants.   Numbers  of  houses 
are  covered  with  glazed  porcelain,  in  a  variety  of  ele- 
gant designs  and  patterns.     The  Plaza  Major,  or  great 
square,  is  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  is  one  of  the 
finest  to  be  seen  in  any  metropolis.     The  cathedral, 
national  palace,  and  other  large  and  imposing  build- 
ings are  situated  on  this  plaza,  and  numerous  bazaars 
make  it  a  fashionable  n.^ort.     The  Plaza  de  Toros  for 
the  exhibition  of  bull-fights,  is  a  great  circular  enclosure, 
filled  up  exactly  like  that  of  Madrid.     The  Alameda, 
or  public  walk  at  the  west  end  of  the  city,  somewhat 
resembles  a  park,  but  is  rather  stiff  in  its  arrangement. 
Another  open  space,  called  the  Fasseo,  about  two  miles 
in  length,  planted  with  double  rows  of  trees,  is  much 
frequented  on  holydays.     In  the  city  also  are  several 
Portahs,  or  covered  colonnades,  Kned  with  shops  and 
stalls,  forming  a  favourite  evening  promenade.   On  fine 
dry  evenings,  the  environs  present  a  busy,  lively,  and 
interesting  spectacle.     Hundreds  of  canoes,  variously 
decorated,  are  seen  passing  along  the  lake  and  canal, 
each  canoe  having  a  guitar  player  at  the  stern,  and 
some  of  the  party  either  singing  or  dancing. 

The  cathedral,  on  the  north  side  of  the  great  plaza, 
is  a  heterogeneous  edifice,  built  in  a  combination  of 
styles,  the  Gothic  and  Italian  predominating.  The 
interior  is  imposing,  lofty,  and  magnificent.  The  na- 
tional palace  has  a  front  several  hundred  feet  in  extent. 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  tfORtD. 


fil7 


and  contains  four  extensive  courts.  The  edifice,  how 
ever,  is  somewhat  dilapidated.  There  are  numerous 
churches  and  convents  in  the  city,  and  «ome  of  them 
are  handsome  buildings. 

The  markets  of  Mexico  are  well  supplied  by  the 
floating  gardens  in  its  neighbourhood.  The  trade  carried 
on  by  the  city  is  not  very  extensive,  nor  are  the  manu- 
factures  very  remarkable  or  valuable.  A  fine  road 
connects  the  city  with  the  port  of  Vera  Cruz,  about 
800  miles  distant. 

The  population  of  Mexico  now  amounts  to  about 
155,000  persons,  of  whom  about  70,000  are  Creoles,  or 
descendants  of  Spaniards.  Some  of  the  successful 
speculators  in  mines  are  very  rich  and  they,  with 
those  who  have  inherited  property,  constitute  the  higher 
class.  The  lower  orders  arc  on  a  level  with  the  lazza- 
roni  of  Naples.  The  very  rich,  and  the  very  poor  are 
numerous.  But  the  middle  class  is  small.  The  customs 
and  manners  of  the  people  do  not  differ  in  any  respect 
from  those  of  the  Spaniards.  Morals  are  in  very  low 
estimation.  The  ladies  have  the  remarkable  habit  of 
smoking  cigars,  which  renders  them  any  thing  but 
agreeable  to  foreigners.  Still  many  of  them  are  hand- 
some, and  some  fascinating* 


BOSTON. 


OSTON,tho  capital  of  Mas- 
eachusetts,  tlio  chief  city  of 
New  England,  the  seconrl 
city  in  commerce,  and  the 
fourth  in  population  in  the 
United  States,  is  pleasantly 
situated  on  a  peninsula, 
three  milca  long,  and  little 
over  one  broad,  at  the  head 
of  Massachusetts  Bay.  Bos- 
ton ia  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  famous  cities  in  the 
Union,  alike  honored  by  the  character  of  its  first  settlers, 
and  the  great  events  in  which  it  has  taken  the  lead. 

In    1G20,  Rev.    William  Blackstonc   built   the  first 
house  upon  the  ground  now  occupied  by  Boston.     The 
Indians  called  the  peninsula  Shawmut— the  English, 
Trimountain,  from   its    three   hills.      The   first  sub- 
stantial  foundation  of  Boston  was   in  1G30,  when  a 
large  number  of  emigrants  arrived  in  Massachusetts 
under  Mr.    John  Winthrop,  the  first   governor,  who 
made  his  residence  at  Charlestown,  but  soon  removed  to 
Boston,  with  a  number  of  the  principal  settlers.    Soon 
after,  the  settlement  at  Trimountain  was  named  Bos- 
ton,  after  a  town  of  that  name  in  England.     The  town 
increased  very  rapidly.    Several  distinguished  ministers 
arrived  from  England.     A  general  court  was  estab- 
lished.    The  natives  were  conciliated,  and  many  of 


I 


620 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


them  were  converted  to  Christianity.     Several  forts 
were  erected,  however,  to  provide  against  hostility. 
The  people  of  the  town  were  considered  as  members 
of  one  congregation,  and  all  who  dissented  from  the 
majority  in  religious  belief  were  banished.     As  early 
as    1646,   the   Liberty   Tree,    afterwards   so   famous, 
was  planted  at  the  corner  of  the  prenent  Washington 
and  Essex  streets.     It  continued  to  flourish  until  the 
Revolution,   when   it   was   cut   down   by  the   British 
soldiers.     Ominously,  however,  one  of  the  soldiers  avus 
killed  by  its  fall.     In  1656,  the  Quakers  visited  the 
colony,  and  afterwards  caused  much  trouble.    In  1684, 
Massachusetts  was   deprived   of  its   charter,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  many  manifestations  of  resistance  to 
arbitrary  power.     Five  years  afterwards,  in  1689,  the 
people, seized  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  the  English  gov- 
ernor, and  put  him  in  prison.     This  bold  step  was  ap- 
proved by  the  enemies  of  James  II.,  of  England.     In 
1700,  Boston  contained  1000  houses,  and  7000  inhabi- 
tants.    In  1701,  the  representatives  of  the  town  worn 
instructed  to  endeavour  to  obtain  the  abolition  of  sla- 
very, one  of  the  earliest  movements  in  the  world  on  the 
subject.     The  Boston  News  Letter,  the  first  newspaper 
in  America,  was  published  by  John  Campbell,  at  Bos- 
ton,  in   1704.     The    stamp  act  was    passed  in  the 
British  parliament,  on  the  22d  of  March,  1765.     The 
Bostonians  immediately  took  the  lead  in  opposing  its 
extension,  as  well  as  that  of  several  other  oppressive 
and  obnoxious  acts.     On  the  5th  of  March,  1770,  the 
"Boston   massacre"  occured,  in  which   the   soldiers, 
after  some   provocation,  fired  upon   the  inhabitants, 
killing  three  persons,  and  mortally  wounding   three 


I 


BOSTON. 


521 


others.  This  caused  the  inhabitants  to  demand  the  re- 
moval of  the  soldiers  from  the  town.  In  March,  1774, 
the  Boston  Port  Bill  passed  the  British  parliament.  Soon 
after,  the  citizens  determined  to  break  off  all  intercourse 
with  Great  Britain.  Seventeen  persons  disguised  as 
Indians,  aided  by  a  crowd  of  citizens,  went  on  board 
some  Indian  ships  in  the  harbour,  and  emptied  342 
chests  of  tea  into  the  docks.  The  leaders  of  tho 
patriots  at  this  exciting  period  were  James  Otis,  Jo- 
seph Warren,  John  Adams,  Josiah  Quiney,  and 
Samuel  Adams.  The  battle  of  Lexington  roused  the 
people  of  Massachusetts  to  assert  their  rights  by  force 
of  arms.  On  the  19th  of  April,  1775,  occurred  the 
famous  battle  of  Breed's  Hill,  the  first  great  contest 
of  the  war  of  independence,  in  which  General  Warren 
and  other  gallant  patriots  fell.  Charlestown  was  burned 
during  tho  fight.  Gen.  Washington  now  arrived  and 
took  command  of  the  large  but  Uiidisciplined  forces 
of  patriots  assembled  around  Boston.  The  British 
were  besieged  in  the  town.  This  was  a  sad  period 
for  Boston  A  numerous  army  of  foreigners  held  the 
town,  and  prevented  the  citizens  from  aiding  their 
patriotic  friends  in  the  field.  Want  in  all  shapes  ap- 
peared ■'raong  the  inhabitants.  Anxiety  was  pictured 
or-  every  countenance.  Near  by,  lay  the  smouldering 
ruins  of  Charlestown.  At  length  the  British  evacu- 
ated Boston.  Washington  enterel  the  city  in  tri- 
umph, and  was  hailed  as  a  deliverer.  Independence 
was  secured  after  an  eight  years'  struggle.  From  the 
peace  of  1783,  Boston  increased  in  size,  beauty,  and 
population  very  rapidly,  and  we  now  purpose  to  give 
a  conception  of  the  town  as  it  is,  iu  1852, 


522 


GUKAT   CITIKS   OF   TUB   WORLD. 


Boston  prosciits  a  picturesque  and  beautiful  appear- 
ance when  approadiod  from  the  sea,  and  in  surveying 
its  Beveial  parts  the  traveller  finds  much  to  admire. 
It  consists  of  Old  Boston,  on  the  peninsula,  South  Bos- 
ton, fornicily  a  i)art  of  Dorchester,  and  East  Boston, 
formerly  Noddle's  Island.  The  "Neck"  or  isthmus, 
which  formerly  was  the  only  connection  of  the  penin- 
sula with  the  main  land,  is  over  a  mile  in  length.  This 
Neck,  which  conticcts  Boston  with  Iloxbury,  still  con- 
stitutes the  main  avenue  to  the  city  from  the  south. 
But  by  a  number  of  extensive  bridges  and  artificial 
avenues,  it  is  connected,  in  various  directions,  with  the 
surrounding  country. 

South  Boston  extends  about  two  miles  along  the 
south  side  of  the  harbour.  It  contains  nearly  GOO 
acres,  and  is  regularly  laid  out  into  streets  and  squares. 
Nearly  in  the  middle  of  this  tract  are  Dorchester 
Heights  or  Mount  Washington,  130  feet  above  the  sea, 
■which  furnishes  many  fine  sites  for  buildings,  and  pre- 
sents a  beautiful  view  of  the  city  and  its  harbour.  On 
these  heights  the  Americans,  under  Washington,  erected 
a  fortification  in  1775,  which  soon  compelled  the  British 
to  evacuate  Boston. 

East  Boston  contains  6G0  acres  of  land,  and  a  largo 
body  of  flats.  It  is  connected  with  Old  Boston  by  a 
st.Mun  ferry,  the  boats  of  which  start  from  each  side 
every  five  minutes,  and  occupy  about  three  minutes 
in  crossing.  It  is  connected  to  Chelsea,  on  the  main- 
land, by  a  bridge  600  feet  long.  The  eastern  railroad 
commences  here.  A  wharf  1000  feet  long,  called 
Cunard's  wharf,  has  been  liberally  granted,  free  of 
charge  for  20  yoaru  for  the  use  of  the  Liverpool  lino 


L 


BOSTON. 


523 


of  stoam-ships.  East  Boston  has  wholly  grown  up 
sincG  1833,  and  nlrcaciy  constitutes  an  important  part 
of  the  city. 

The  piincii)ul  public  ground  in  tho  city  is  tho  spa- 
cious Coimnon  on  tho  west  side,  which  contains  75 
acres.  It  occupies  tlie  declivity  of  Beacon  hill,  and 
has  a  pleasantly  diversified  surface;  and  an  eminence 
near  the  centre  still  bears  the  marks  of  a  British  for- 
tification, thrown  up  in  1775.  North  of  this  eminence 
is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  called  Crescent-pond,  bor- 
dered with  young  and  thrifty  elms.  The  Common  con- 
tains about  GOO  trees  of  different  sizes,  some  of  them 
100  years  old,  which  add  much  to  its  pleasantness. 

The  Common  is  surrounded  by  an  iron  fence,  about 
I.  mile  in  length,  on  tho  outside  of  which  is  a  broad 
street ;  and  on  three  sides  of  it  are  rows  of  splendid 
edifices.  A  botanic  garden  containing  25  acres,  is 
aeparjited  from  its  W.  part.  The  State-house,  the  most 
commanding  building  in  tlie  city,  occupies  its  N.  part. 
No  other  city  in  the  United  States  has  an  equally  splen- 
did public  ground.  From  the  day  when  the  peninsula 
was  purchased  of  an  Indian  sachem,  it  has  never  been 
tho  property  of  any  individual ;  it  was  early  reserved 
by  the  citizens  "for  a  training  field  and  other  public 
purposes,"  and  by  a  clause  in  the  city  charter,  the  city 
council  are  forbidden  ^o  sell  tho  Common  or  Faneuil 
Hall. 

The  city  contains  530  streets  and  avenues.  It  was 
originally  laid  upon  no  regular  plan,  and  tho  streets 
are  often  crooked  and  narrow;  but  these  inconveni- 
ences have  been  avoided  in  the  newer  parts,  and  exten- 
sively remedied  by  improvements  in  the  older  parts. 


524 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


Boston  is  generally  well  built,  mostly  of  brick,  and 
many  of  its  private  residences  are  unsurpassed  in  ele- 
gance by  those  of  any  other  city  in  the  Union.     Many 
of  its  public  buildings  are  of  a  commanding  character. 
Among  the  public  buildings  of  Boston,  the  State- 
house  is  the  principal.     It  occupies  a  commanding  situ- 
ation near  the  summit  of  Beacon  hill,  110  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea,  and  fronts  on  the  spacious  Com- 
mon.    Few  public  buildings  in  the  United  States  have 
so  commanding  a  site.     The  edifice  is  173  feet  long, 
and  61  wide.     It  consists  of  a  basement  story,  and 
above  it  a  principal  story,  30  feet  high.     Tliis,'  in  tlie 
centre  of  the  front,  is  covered  with  an  attic,  CO  feet 
wide  and  20  feet  high,  supporting  a  pediment.     Imme- 
diately above  this  rises  the  dome,  50  feet  in  diameter 
and  20  feet  high;  and  the  whole  terminates  with  a 
lantern  crowned  with  an  elegant  pine-cone.     The  dome 
is  ascended  by  a  spiral  stairway  on  the  inside :  and 
from  its  top  is  presented  the  finest  view  in  the  United 
States,  and  which  is  probably  unsurpassed  in  the  world. 
Elevated  230  feet  above  the  level  of  the  harbour,  the 
spectator  looks  down  upon  the  city  as  on  a  map,  and  is 
able  to  trace  its  streets  and  to  survey  its  buildings. 
Before  him  stretches  the  harbour  and  the  extensive  bay 
to  the  east,  sprinkled  over  with  its  hundred  islands ; 
and  in  other  directions  numerous  beautiful  villages, 
T.ith  their  numerous  spires;  and  a  highly  cultivated 
country,  with  many  elegant  country  seats,  embowered 
in   trees,  fill   up   the   beautiful   scene.     A  few  lofty 
mountains  might  add  to  its  grandeur,  but  could  scarcely 
enhance  its  beauty,  to  which  nature  and  art  have  given 
their  highest  embellishment.   Faneuil  Hali  was  erected 


fS>= 


BOSTON. 


525 


in  1742,  by  a  gentleman  whose  name  it  bears,  and  was 
by  him  presented  to  the  city.  It  is  100  feet  long,  80 
feet  wide,  and  three  stories  high.  The  lower  story  is 
occupied  by  stores.  The  great  hall  in  the  second  story 
is  76  feet  square  and  28  high,  with  galleries  on  three 
sides,  supported  by  Doric  columns,  and  the  ceiling  is 
supported  by  two  ranges  of  Ionic  columns.  The  west 
end  is  ornamented  by  a  full  length  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington by  Stuart ;  and  another  copied  from  an  original 
picture,  of  Peter  Faneuil,  Esq.,  the  donor  of  the  build- 
ing. Above  the  great  Hall  is  another  in  the  third 
story,  78  feet  long  and  30  feet  Avide,  devoted  io  mili- 
tary exercises,  with  apartments  on  each  side  for  the 
deposit  of  arms  and  military  equipments.  This  vene- 
rable building  has  been  appropriately  called  "the  cra- 
dle of  American  liberty;"  for  here  the  orators  of  the 
Revolution  stimulated  the  people  by  their  exciting  elo- 
quence, to  resist  British  oppression.  It  is  the  property 
of  the  city,  and  secured  by  its  charter  from  ever  being 
devoted  to  any  but  public  purposes.  The  city  Hall  or 
old  State  House,  at  the  head  of  State  street,  is  110 
feet  long,  38  feet  wide,  and  three  stories  high,  and 
contains  the  offices  of  the  city  government,  the  Post- 
office,  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  and  a  well-furnished 
news-room.  An  elegant  Merchants'  Exchange,  with  a 
fine  reading-room,  has  been  recently  erected  in  State 
street.  Faneuil  Hall  market  is  a  splendid  edifice,  585 
feet  long  and  50  feet  vide,  having  a  centre  building 
47-1  by  55  feet,  projecting  2|  feet  on  the  N.  and  S. 
Fronts.  It  is  directlv  E.  of  Faneuil  Hall,  between  N. 
and  S.  Market  streets,  which  are  lined  with  splendid 
rows  of  stores   and  warehouses.     The  wings  are  two 


626 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE  WORLD. 


Btories  high,  and  at  the  E.  and  W.  ends  are  fine  porti- 
coes  of  four  Grecian  Doric  columns  20  feet  9  inches 
high,  which  support  a  tympanum,  with  a  circular  win- 
dow for  ventilation.     On  the  centre  building  is  a  beau- 
tiful dome,  which  rises  77  feet  from  the  ground,     llie 
lower  story  is  occupied  as  a  market  for  meat,  fish,  and 
vegetables ;  and  the  country  does  not  furnish  a  more 
splendid  market-house.     The  upper  room  of  the  centre 
building  is  denominated  Quincy  Hall,  from  the  Hon. 
Josiah  Quincy,  now  president  of  Harvard  University, 
who  was  mayor  of  the  city  when  the  building  was 
erected.     It  is  70  feet  long  and  50  feet  wide.     Each 
wing  is  divided  intQ  two  halls  by  brick  partitions,  one 
room  44  by  47  feet,  and  the  other  143  by  47,  used  as 
warerooms  and  for  large  sales.     This  building,  exclu- 
sive of  the  ground,  cost  $150,000,  and  is  an  ornament 
to  the  city.     The  new  Court-house  is  constructed  of 
hewn  Quincy  granite,  is  176  feet  long,  54  feet  wide, 
and  57  feet  high ;  and  the  N.  and  S.  fronts  are  adorned 
with  Grecian  Doric  porticoes  of  four  columns,  which 
weigh   25   tons   each.     The   interior  has   four   court 
rooms,  each  50  by  40  feet,  besides  various  public  offices. 
A  new  Custom-house  has  been  erected,  which  has.  an 
elegant  Doric  portico  its  whole  length,  and  a  fine  dome 
in  the  centre,  adapted  to  the  wants  of  this  commercial 
metropolis.     The  houses  of  Industry,  Correction,  and 
Reformation  are  pleasantly  situated  in  South  Boston, 
near  the  brow  of  Dorchester  heights,  having  a  fine 
view  of  Boston  and  its  harbour,  and  surrounded  by  61 
acres  of  ground.     Tremont-house  is  one  of  the  finest 
hotels  in  the  United  States,  and  little  inferior  to  the 
celebrated  Astor-house  in  N.  York. 


BOSTON. 


527 


Boston  is  the  second  commercial  city  in  the  Union, 
and  possesses  one  of  the  best  harbours  in  the  United 
States.  Including  the  outer  harbour,  it  extends  from 
Nantasket  to  the  city,  and  spreads  from  Nahant  to 
Hingham,  containing  75  square  miles.  It  contains  a 
hundred  islands  or  rocks  above  water,  and  receives 
Mystic,  Charles,  and  Neponset  rivers.  The  principal 
islands  are  Governor's  island,  containing  fort  Warren, 
and  Castle  island,  containing  Port  Independence.  Bos- 
ton has  over  90  wharves,  many  of  which  are  lined  with 
large  and  splendid  stores  and  warehouses.  The  prin- 
cipal are  India  wharf,  which  is  980  feet  long  and  from 
246  to  280  feet  wide,  in  the  middle  of  which  is  an 
extensive  row  of  stores  four  storie's  high.  It  was  con- 
structed in  1805.  Central  wharf  is  1379  feet  long  and 
150  feet  wide.  In  the  centre  is  a  fine  range  of  stores, 
and  over  the  central  hall,  in  the  middle,  is  an  astrono- 
mical observatory,  with  a  telegraph,  communicating, 
through  an  intermediate  one,  with  another  on  Point 
Alderton  hill,  at  Nantasket.  It  was  built  in  1816. 
Long  Wharf,  at  the  foot  of  State  street,  is  1800  feet 
long,  and  200  wide,  on  which  are  76  spacious  ware- 
houses. A  well  of  fresh  water,  90  feet  deep  in  the 
centre  of  this  wharf,  extensively  supplies  the  shipping 
with  pure  and  wholesome  water.  This  wharf  was  con- 
structed in  1710,  but  has  since  been  greatly  improved. 
There  are  fifteen  academies  or  grammar  schools,  with 
2629  students,  and  137  common  and  primary  schools, 
with  14,003  scholars.  - 

Boston  has  106  literary  and  charitable  societies. 
Among  the  literary  societies  of  a  high  order  is  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Scienceg,  founded  in 


528 


GREAT   CITIES    OF  THE   \FORLD. 


1780,  which  has  published  four  quarto  volumes  of  its 
transactions,  and  has  a  library  of  over  2000  volumes. 
It  has  numbered  among  its  members  many  distinguished 
persons.  The  Massachusetts  Historical  Society  was 
incorporated  in  1784 ;  and  its  object  is  to  collect  the 
materials  of  a  complete  history  of  the  state  and  of  the 
country. 

There  were,  in  1850,  65  newspapers,  of  which  12 
were  daily,  some  of  which  were  also  semi-weekly  and 
weekly.  Besides  newspapers,  there  are  a  number  of 
magazines  and  reviews,  the  most  distinguished  of  which 
is  the  North  American  Review,  which  has  contributed 
much  to  raise  the  character  of  American  literature,  not 
only  in  the  United  States,  but  also  in  Great  Britain 
and  other  parts  of  Europe. 

There  are  75  churches  in  Boston,  of  which  15  are 
Unitarian,  12  Congregational,  nine  Baptist,  three  Free- 
will Baptist,  two  Christian  and  one  African  Baptist, 
eight  Methodist,  one  Reformed  Methodist,  one  Christ- 
ian Methodist,  four  Universalist,  one  New  Jerusalem, 
one  Friends,  one  German  Protestant,  four  Roman 
Catholic,  and  some  others. 


PHILADELPHIA. 

HE  city  of  Philadelp^'a  is  situ- 
ated between,  and  on,  the  Dela- 
ware and   Schuylkill  rivers,  at 
their  junction,  about  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  miles  from  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  It  is  the  metro- 
polis of  Pennsylvania,  and  with 
/  '   '  the  exception  of  New  York,  the  most  populous 
\  ^    city  in  the  New  World,  having  at  present  more 
than  half  a  million  of  inhabitants. 
Philadelphia  was  founded  in  1682,  by  William  Penn, 
and  a  colony  of  English  Friends,  or  Quakers.  Carrying 
out  those  kindly  principles  which  induced  him  to  call 
his  projected   city  by  a  name  signifying   "brotherly 
love,"  the  amiable  Penn,  before  beginning  it  purchased 
every  foot  of  the  land  upon  which  it  was  to  be  built, 
from  its  Indian  owners.     The  treaty  of  purchase  was 
solemnly  ratified  under  a  great  elm  tree,  which  formerly 
stood  in  what  was  lately  the  District  of  Kensington. 
The  spot  is  still  indicated  by  a  plain  obelisk  of  marble. 
For  many  years  after  its  foundation,  the  city  of  Penn 
had  a   quiet,  but  prosperous  existence.     Its  history 
during  that  period  presents  nothing  o"  noticeable  im- 
portance.    Previous  to,  and  during  the  struggle  of  ths 
colonies  for  independence,  however,  Philadelphia  became 
the  scene  of  events  as  momentous  in  their  consequencee 

45  (529) 


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PIMFMDKM'IIM, 


631 


as  finy  that  have  occurred  in  the  world's  history.  Here 
it  was,  on  the  fifth  of  September,  1774,  that  the  first 
Continental  Con^'resH  HKHemhhrd.  The  building  in 
which  that  body  hehi  itH  8e««ion  in  Htill  Htanding,"in  a 
court  running  back  toward  Walnut  from  Chestnut 
street,  .and  between  Third  and  Fourth  streets.  It  is 
called  Carpenter's  Hall,  and  at  present  serves  as  an 
auction  mart.  In  Philadolpjiia,  too,  on  the  eighth  of 
July,  1776,  the  far-fained  Declaration  of  Independence, 
adopted  by  the  Continental  Congress  four  days  previ- 
ously,  was  read  to  the  aHsemblcd  public,  from  a  stand 
in  the  State-house  S(|uare, 

Shortly  subsequent  to  the  disastrous  defeat  of  the 
Americans  at  Brandy  wine,  on  the  11th  of  September, 
1777,  Philadelphia  was  taken  poHsossion  of  by  the 
British,  who  remained  there  until  June  of  the  following 
year.  During  tlie  remainder  of  the  war  it  happily 
escaped  the  ravages  consequent  upon  hostile  operations. 

It  was  at  Philadelphia,  in  May  1787,  that  the  Con- 
vention met  whicli  framed  the  present  Constitution  of 
the  United  States ;  and  for  the  next  ten  years,  it  con- 
tinued to  be  the  place  where  the  new  Congress  held  its 
meetings.  In  the  fall  of  1703,  the  city  was  terribly 
afflicted  by  a  visitation  of  the  yellow  fever.  Out  of  a 
population  of  less  than  fifty  thousand,  full  one  half  of 
which  is  thought  to  have  fled  from  the  scene  of  pesti- 
lence, no  less  than  four  thousand  fell  victims  to  the 
destroying  malady.  In  171)8,  the  disease  again  made 
its  appearance,  but  not  with  such  fatal  effect  as  on  the 
previous  occasion. 

Many  y^ars  of  quiet  prosperity  followed,  rendering 
the   history  of  Philadelphia  as  barren   of  important 


^ 


'M.'l 


I 


582 


QRKAT  CITIB8  OF  THE  WORLD. 


events  as  the  annals  of  peace  and  prosperity  always  are. 
But,  after  ravaging  the  countries  of  the  Old  World,  tho 
cholera  visited  those  of  the  F^ew.  Philadelphia  suf- 
fered severely  from  its  effects  during  the  summer  of 
1832,  in  which  over  two  thousand  of  the  inhabitants 
were  carried  off  by  the  pestilence.  Fourteen  years  after- 
wards the  disease  again  made  its  a;)pearance,  but  the 
fatality  was  not  very  alarming. 

During  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years,  Philadelphia  has 
been  the  theatre  of  several  alarming  riots.  In  1838, 
a  mob  attacked  and  burned  Pennsylvania,  or  Liberty 
Hall,  a  building  belonging  to  the  abolitionists,  whose 
principles  had  become  obnoxious.  That  part  of  the 
city  inhabited  by  the  colored  population  was  olso 
assailed  by  the  same  mob,  and  an  asylum  devoted  lO 
the  sheltering  of  orphan  colored  children  burned  to  th  i 
ground.  Six  years  afterwards,  in  May,  1844,  ono  of 
the  most  fearful  outbreaks  our  country  has  as  yet  wit- 
nessed, took  place  in  Philadelphia.  For  several  days 
the  northern  districts  of  the  city  were  in  a  perfect 
uproar  of  battle  between  the  more  hot-headed  members 
of  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  portions  of  the  commu- 
nity. During  that  period  two  Catholic  churches  were 
destroyed  by  an  enraged  mob,  and  many  lives  lost  on 
both  sides.  In  the  following  July,  fresh  disturb- 
ances took  place  in  the  District  of  Southwark.  It 
being  discovered  that  the  Catholic  Church  there  had 
arms  secreted  in  it,  a  large  number  of  the  citizens  as- 
sembled, and  it  was  not  until  the  military  had  been 
called  out,  and  many  lives  lost,  that  quiet  was  restored. 

In  February,  1854,  an  act  was  passed  by  the  legis- 
lature of  Pennsylvania,  consolidating  the  many  inde- 


► 


PUILADELPHIA. 


533 


pendent  diatricts,  previously  composing  what  was  im- 
properly called  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  into  one 
corporation.  This  act  went  into  operation  on  the 
second  Tuesday  in  June  of  the  same  year,  when  Phila- 
delphia became  the  largest  city  in  the  world,  being 
twenty-one  miles  in  length,  and  about  eight  in  breadth. 

Viewed  from  the  river  approach,  Philadelphia  pre- 
sents little  to  impress  a  stranger  with  a  true  sense  of 
its  beauty  and  greatness.  The  thickly  built  portion  of 
it  stands  upon  almost  level  ground,  and  few  spires  are 
seen  rising  above  the  numerous  warehouses  that  line 
the  river  front.  The  northern  and  western  parts  of  the 
consolidated  city,  however,  will  be  found  richly  diversi- 
fied with  hills  and  dales,  elegant  country-seats,  well- 
cultivated  farms,  shady  forests,  romantic  streams,  quiet 
villages,  and,  in  short,  with  every  thing  calculated  to 
give  it  a  truly  "  rus  in  urbe,"  character. 

Among  the  villages  alluded  to — or,  rather,  what  were 
lately  villages — are  Germantown,  six  miles  northward 
of  the  old  city  proj  r,  and  remarkable  for  the  extent 
and  beauty  of  the  country-seats  to  be  found  there; 
Richmond,  two  miles  up  the  river,  from  Chestnut  street, 
where  is  the  largest  coal  depot  in  the  country ;  West 
Philadelphia,  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Schuylkill, 
containing  some  of  the  handsomest  cottage  residences 
to  be  found  in  the  United  States,  and  forming  the 
eastern  terminus  of  the  gr(  at  Central  Pennsylvania 
Railroad;  and  Frankford,  five  miles  north-east  from 
the  State-house,  and  situated  on  the  banks  of  Tacony 
creek,  which  furnishes  abundant  water-power  for  a  large 
number  of  woollen  and  ot^  er  factories.  In  addition  to 
these,  Hamilton  and  Mantua  villages,  and  the  romantio 

46* 


I 


584 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


scenery  on  the  banks  of  Wissahickon  creek,  and  the 
Schuylkill,  ■whose  beauties  Tom  Moore,  and  Fanny 
Kemble  have  sung,  add  greatly  to  the  rural  ness  of  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  as  now  incorporated. 

The  compact  part  of  the  city  extends  abont  four 
n.iles  on  the  Delaware,  and  two  on  the  Schuylkill,  with 
an  area  of  some  eight  square  miles.  Its  plan,  ..s  laid 
out  by  the  founder,  is  extremely  regular.  Ten  srrceta, 
running  east  and  west  from  river  to  river,  and  crossed 
at  right  angles  by  twenty-five  others,  extending  north 
and  south.  In  the  newer  portions  of  the  city,  however, 
this  regularity  has  necessarily  .en  departed  from  ;  but 
not  so  much  so  aii  to  give  the  streets  that  bewildering 
circuitousness,  and  unsightly  narrowness,  which  are  so 
common  in  most  European  cities. 

The  principal  business  thoroughfare  of  Philadelphia 
is  High  or  Market  street,  which  extends  from  the  Dela- 
ware to  the  Schuylkill,  without  interruption,  a  distance 
of  two  miles.  It  is  one  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  con- 
tains most  of  the  large  mercantile  houses  and  markets 
of  the  city.  Broad  street,  which  runs  north  and  south, 
along  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  Delaware  and 
Schuylkill,  is  one  hundred  and  thirteen  feet  wide,  and 
when  built  up,  will  be  one  of  the  finest  thoroughfares  in 
the  world.  Chestnut  street  is  the  great  promenade  of 
the  city,  and,  in  fine  weather,  is  thronged  with  the  fair 
and  fashionable,  either  seeking  fresh  air  and  a  pleasant 
walk,  or  going  out  a  shopping  among  the  palace-like 
retail  stores  with  which  the  street  is  lined.  Second 
street,  which  runs  an  extraordinary  distance  north  and 
south,  is  probably  the  most  bustling  in  the  city,  though 
the  stores  that  occupy   it  are  chiefly  engaged  in  the 


I 


PHILADELPHIA. 


686 


small  retail  business.  Third  street,  between  Walnut 
and  High,  is  mostly  taken  up  by  insurance,  newspaper, 
and  broker's  offices.  Walnut,  Spruce,  Pine,  and  Arf^h 
streets,  which  run  parallel  with  High  street,  from  river 
to  river,  are  chiefly  occupied  by  the  residences  of  the 
wealthy  and  fashionable,  as  is  also  the  western  portion 
of  Chestnut  street. 

Though  not  largo,  nor  very  numerous,  the  public 
squarcj  of  Philndelphia  are  tasteful  and  beautiful,  being 
inclosed  wi'.l.  roit  iron  railings,  finely  laid  out,  planted 
with  a  rir'i  variety  f  forest  trees,  and  enlivened  by  the 
presence  .if  k-ev,  p"  jfowl  and  squirrels.  Five  of  the 
largest  are  i.'voral^v  named  Franklin — which  contains 
a  fine  fountaii.  and  basin,  with  forty  jets — Rittenhouse, 
Washington,  Logan,  and  Peiin.  The  extent  of  land 
that  each  covers  avernges  about  six  acres.  All  are  in 
the  dense  part  of  the  city.  On  the  Schuylkill,  above 
Fairmount  Water  Works,  is  Lemon  Hill,  a  public  gar- 
den belonging  to  the  city.  Though  somewhat  out  of 
order,  the. grounds  are  extensive,  and  of  the  most  pictu- 
resque character.  Independence  Square  is  immediately 
back  of  the  old  State  House,  and  is  inclosed  by  Chest- 
nut, and  Walnut,  and  Fifth,  and  Sixth  streets.  It  is 
memorable  as  the  scene  of  the  reading  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  and  is  still  used  as  a  place  of 
public,  open  air  meetings. 

In  the  beauty  of  its  private  residences,  and  the  cost- 
liness and  grandeur  of  its  public  and  other  edifices, 
Philadelphia  is  little  behind  the  more  modern  great 
cities  of  the  Old  World.  Foremost  among  these,  stands 
Girard  College,  probably  the  finest  specimen  of  Grecian 
architecture  of  modern  times.     It  is  situated  on  a  high 


636 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


plat  of  ground,  near  the  Ridge  Avenue,  and  about  two 
miles  from  the  centre  of  the  city.  The  corner-stone 
was  laid  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1833.  More  than  four- 
teen years  elaptjed  before  the  various  buildings  were 
completed.  The  central  edifice,  erected  after  the  design 
of  Thomas  U.  Walter,  Esq.,  is  in  the  form  of  a  Co- 
rinthian temple,  being  surrounded  by  a  magnificent 
colonade  of  thirty-four  columns,  fifty-five  feet  in  height, 
by  which  the  entire  length  of  the  building  is  extended 
to  two  hundred  and  eighteen  feet,  with  a  breadth  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty.  In  this  edifice,  which  is  completely 
fire-proof,  are  the  more  important  halls  of  the  institu- 
tion. For  lodging  and  study  rooms,  there  are  two 
smaller  buildings  on  each  side  of  the  main  structure. 
The  grounds,  which  cover  forty  acres,  are  tastefully 
laid  out,  but  the  wall  that  surrounds  the  whole  is  an 
unsightly  piece  of  work.  The  entire  cost  of  the  build- 
ings, grounds,  and  embellishments,  was  $1,933,821  78. 
Stephea  Girard,  to  whose  liberality  this  splendid  temple 
of  education  owes  its  existence,  left  France,  his  native 
country,  when  about  twelve  years  of  age ;  and,  after 
following  the  sea  for  several  years,  at  length  started 
a  little  shop  in  Water  street,  in  Philadelphia.  By  his 
energy,  his  business  talents,  and  untiring  industry,  he 
was  enabled  to  accumulate  a  princely  fortune,  being 
worth,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  in  1831,  between  ten 
and  twelve  millions  of  dollars.  Of  this,  besides  large 
amounts  for  various  other  charitable  and  public  pur- 
posrn,  he  left  $2,000,000,  or  more,  if  required,  to  build 
and  endow  a  college  for  the  education  and  maintenance 
of  poor  white  male  orphans. 

The  next  most  attractive  public  edifice  in  Philadel- 


PHILADELPHIA. 


537 


phia,  ia  the  Custom  House,  formerly  known  as  the 
United  States  Bank.  It  is  built  entirely  of  white 
marble,  and  occupied  nearly  five  years  in  its  construc- 
tion, at  an  expenditure  of  $500,000.  Its  general  form 
is  that  of  the  Parthenon,  at  Athens,  the  side  colonnades 
being  dispensed  with.  In  length  it  is  one  hundred  and 
sixty'one  feet,  eighty-seven  in  width,  and  stands  on  a 
raised  platform,  ascended  by  twenty  steps.  It  is  on 
Chestnut  street,  between  Fourth  and  Fifth  streets,  and 
runs  back  to  Library  street.  Both  the  Chestnut  and 
Library  street  fronts  are  adorned  by  a  stately  colonnade 
of  eight  fluted  Doric  columns. 

The  Merchants'  Exchange,  which  occupies  the  tri- 
angular space  formed  by  Third,  Walnut,  and  Dock 
streets,  is  a  beautiful  building  of  white  marble.  Viewed 
from  the  east  it  presents  a  magnificent  appearance, 
being  fronted  on  Dock  street  by  a  semi-circular  colon- 
nade of  eight  lofty  Corinthian  columns,  resting  on  the 
basement,  and  surmounted  by  a  handsome  observatory. 
It  contains  a  rotunda,  where  the  merchants  meet,  and  a 
reading  room,  and  the  post  office  is  kept  in  the  base- 
ment. On  the  upper  side  of  Third  street,  a  short  dis- 
tance above  the  Exchange,  we  find  the  Girard  Bank, 
originally  occupied  by  the  first  Bank  of  the  United 
States. 

Occupying  a  plat  of  ground  west  of  Juniper  street, 
and  between  Chestnut  and  Olive  streets,  is  the  United 
States  Mint,  a  chaste  edifice  of  white  marble.  It  has 
two  fronts,  one  on  Chestnut  and  the  other  on  Olive 
streets,  each  of  which  is  adorned  by  a  portico,  sixty-two 
feet  in  length,  and  supported  by  six  beautiful  Ionic 
columns.     The  entire  length  of  each  front  is  one  hun- 


638 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


dred  and  twenty  feet,  and  the  depth  of  the  building  is 
nearly,  or  quite  two  hundred  feet.  All  the  operations 
of  assaying,  reining,  and  coining,  are  carried  on  within 
its  walls.     It  was  erected  at  a  cost  of  $200,000. 

The  most  attractive  object  to  a  stranger  visiting 
Philadelphia,  is,  perhaps,  the  State  House,  or  Hall  of 
Independence,  still  standing  on  Chestnut  street,  between 
Fifth  and  Sixth.  Though  not  remarkable  for  archi- 
tectural beauty,  its  venerable  and  quaint  aspect,  its  old- 
time  wainscoted  walls,  and  grotesque  carvings,  and, 
above  all,  the  associations  connected  with  it,  give  it 
something  more  than  beauty  in  the  eyes  of  an  Ameri- 
can. Its  erection  was  completed  in  1734.  In  the  left- 
hand  room,  as  one  enters  from  Chestnut  street,  sat  that 
illustrious  body  of  men,  who,  on  the  fourth  of  July, 
1776,  pledged  "  their  lives,  their  fortunes,  and  their 
sacred  honor,"  to  support  those  principles  of  inde- 
pendence, which  were  embodied  in  the  immortal  "  De- 
claration" then  and  there  adopted.  The  wings,  con- 
taining the  county  offices,  are  of  later  construction 
than  the  main  building.  Adjoining  the  extremity  of 
the  western  wing,  is  a  plain  brick  building,  now  occu- 
pied by  the  various  courts  of  the  district,  in  which 
Congress  met  subsequent  to  the  adoption  of  the  present 
constitution.  Balancing  this,  at  the  extremity  of  the 
eastern  wing,  is  a  similar  building,  in  Avhich  the  mayor, 
and  other  public  officers,  transact  businesss. 

On  the  Gray's  Ferry  road,  near  the  eastern  bank  of 
the  Schuylkill,  below  South  street,  is  the  United  States 
Naval  Asylum,  designed  as  a  home  for  sick  and  veteran 
seamen  and  marines.  It  is  of  white  marble,  will  lodge 
about  four  hundred  persons,  and  was  erected,  at  a  cost 


gatr- 


PIIILADELPHIA. 


539 


of  near  $300,000,  with  the  proceeds  ot  the  "  hospital 
money"  for  many  years  paid  out  of  their  wages  for  tho 
purpose  by  the  oflScers  and  seamen  of  the  navy. 

Nearly  opposite  the  Naval  Asylum,  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  Schuylkill,  is  the  Blockley  Almshouse— 
an  immense  pile  of  buildings  of  stone,  rough-cast,  with 
a  front  of  five  hundred  feet,  and  occupying,  with  the 
necessary  inclosures,  an  area  of  about  ten  acres.  A 
farm  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  seventy  acres  surrounds 
the  establishment,  giving  it  the  appearance  of  a  splendid 
country-seat.  The  average  number  of  inmates  is  about 
two  thousand  ;  annual  expenses  $100,000  ;  yearly  pro- 
ceeds of  the  manufactory,  house  labor,  and  the  farm, 
between  thirty  and  forty  thousand  dollars. 

The  principal  works  for  supplying  Philadelphia  with 
water  are  at  Fairmount,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Schuylkill,  about  two  miles  no^'^^-west  of  the  State 
House.  The  projects  for  supply .  ,<, ,  'le  city  with  water 
by  means  of  steam-engines  havnig  failed,  after  they 
had  been  persevered  in  at  an  enormous  expense  for 
more  than  twenty  years,  in  1819,  the  present  simple 
and  efficient  machaery  was  commenced.  A  dam,  one 
thousand  two  hundred  and  forty-eight  feet  long,  was 
thrown  in  a  sloping  direction  across  the  Schuylkill,  so 
as  to  be  less  exposed  to  the  force  of  the  current.  The 
water  thus  collected  being  turned  into  an  extensive 
fore-bay,  is  made  to  fiill  upon  and  set  in  motion  eight 
wate'-'whecls,  each  having  its  separate  pump,  by  which 
twelve  million  gallons  of  water  may  be  elevated  every 
twenty-four  hours,  into  four  reservoirs,  one  hundred 
ifeet  above  the  level  of  the  river,  and  fifty  above  the 
highest  ground  of  the  old  city.     These  reservoirs  are 

4*5 


540 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


placed  upon  the  hill,  partly  natural,  and  partly  artificial, 
from  •which  the  works  derive  their  name.  They  contain 
in  the  aggregate  twenty  millions  of  gallons.  The  water 
is  conveyed  over  the  city  in  jnpes,  through  which  as 
mnch  as  eight  millions  eight  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
gallons  have  been  known  to  pass  in  a  single  day.  The 
expense  is  very  trifling,  and  the  supply  abundant. 
Proud  of  the  utility  of  these  noble  works,  the  Philadel- 
phians  are  not  less  so  of  their  picturesqueness  and 
beauty,  which  render  the  grounds  upon  which  they  are 
built,  the  thronged  resort  of  all  classes  of  the  com- 
munity. 

Almost  in  a  direct  line,  about  four  miles  south-west 
of  Fairmount,  is  the  United  States  Navy  Yard,  which 
takes  up  some  twelve  acres  of  ground,  and  contains  two 
large  ship-houses,  severally  two  hundred  and  ten  and 
two  hundred  and  seventy  feet  long,  in  which  bome  of  the 
finest  of  our  national  war-vessels  have  been  constructed. 
At  this  yard  there  is  a  sectional  floating  dock,  the  cost 
of  which  was  $813,742. 

For  palace-like  banking  houses,  stores,  and  other 
edifices  of  the  kind,  Philadelphia  is  not  surpassed  by 
any  city  in  the  Union.  Among  many  others  worthy  of 
particular  mention,  is  the  new  building  in  Chestnut 
street,  below  Fifth,  for  the  use  of  the  Farmers'  and 
Mechanics'  Bank,  as  also  the  fine  marble  structure, 
immediately  east  of  the  Custom  House,  occupied  by  the 
Philadelphia  and  Western  Banks.  The  Masonic  Hall, 
now  being  erected  of  red  sandstone,  will  be  an  ex- 
quisitely handsome  structure  in  the  Gothic  style. 

Prominent  among  the  beautiful  and  stately  buildings 
which  every  where  attract  the  stranger's  observation 


\\ 


[^ 


PHILADELPHIA. 


641 


in  Philadelphia,  is  the  new  building  recently  erected  by 
Dr.  Jayne.  It  is  built  of  granite,  eight  stories  in 
height,  and  has  a  front  of  mixed  Spanish  and  Moorish 
orders,  with  a  tower  one  hundred  and  thirty-three  feet 
in  height.  Adjoining  this  is  a  row  of  stores,  six  stories 
high,  built  of  the  same  material,  and  belonging  to  the 
same  proprietor.  The  Girard  Stores,  in  Chestnut  above 
Third  street,  and  the  Girard  Hotel,  in  Chestnut  near 
Ninth,  are  both  beautiful  and  imposing  structures.  In 
Broad  street,  below  Chestnut,  the  La  Pierre  House  pre- 
sents one  of  the  largest  and  finest  hotel  edifices  in  the 
country. 

At  the  south-east  corner  of  Fifth  and  Arch  streets, 
in  the  cemetery  of  Christ  Church,  is  a  plain  marble 
slab,  under  which  repose  the  remains  of  Benjamin 
Franklin,  who  died  at  Philadelphia,  on  the  17th  of 
April,  1791.  No  other  monument  has  been  erected  to 
the  memory  of  the  great  philosopher;  but  there  are 
few  strangers  in  the  city  who  do  not  pay  a  visit  to  this 
humble  stone.  Franklin,  himself,  how^'ver,  in  the  Phila- 
delphia Library,  situated  in  Fifth  street,  opposite  Inde- 
pendence Square,  and  in  the  American  Philosophical 
Softiety,  who.se  rooms  front  the  library  building,  com- 
memorated in  a  most  appropriate  manner  those  qualities 
of  practical  benevolence  and  wisdom  which  were  promi- 
nent traits  in  his  character. 

The  Philadelphia  Library  was  commenced  by  Frank- 
lin in  1731.  The  building  is  plain,  but  rather  hand- 
some, and  was  erected  in  1790.  A  marble  statue  of 
Franklin,  executed  in  Italy,  is  placed  over  the  front 
door.  It  contains,  with  the  Loganian  Library,  upwards 
of  seventy  thousand  volumes. 


PHILADELPHIA. 


548 


The  American  Philosophical  Society  reckons  among 
its  members  distinguished  literary  and  scientific  men  in 
all  parts  of  the  world.  The  library  contains  twenty 
thousand  volume?,  and  there  belongs  to  it,  also,  an 
extensive  cuUfCtion  of  maps,  charts,  and  engravings. 

In  addition  to  those  literary  and  scicntilic  institutions, 
Philadelphia  is  the  seat  of  numerous  other  similar 
societies,  which  have  raised  the  city  to  a  high  rank  in 
this  respect. 

Philadelphia  is  rich  in  benevolent  and  charitable 
institutions,  prominent  among  which  is  the  Pennsylvania 
Hospital,  founded  in  1751,  by  voluntary  subscriptions, 
and  opened  to  the  public  in  1752.  The  buildings 
Avhich  are  of  brick,  plain,  but  tasteful,  occupy  an  entire 
square  between  Spruce  and  Pine  and  Eighth  and  Ninth 
streets.  In  the  centre  of  the  grounds  fronting  on  Pine 
street,  is  a  bronze  statue  of  William  Penn,  in  the  dress 
he  used  to  wear,  the  square-cut  coat,  long  waistcoat, 
and  plain  hat.  Since  the  establishment  of  this  hospital, 
fifty-four  thousand  four  hundred  and  sixty-nine  patients 
have  been  admitted.  It  is  open  for  the  reception  of 
persons  injured  by  accidents,  provided  they  are  brought 
there  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  are  suffering  from 
injuries  received  in  Pennsylvania.  Ten  physicians  are 
in  daily  attendance.  Attached  to  the  institution,  there 
is  an  excellent  library,  numbering  ovev  ten  thousand 
volumes. 

Philadelphia  has  long  been  celebrated  for  the  excel- 
lent character  of  its  public  schools.  The  Central,  or 
High  School,  established  in  1838,  is  one  of  the  best  of 
its  kind  in  the  country.  A  large  building,  in  Broad 
street,  at  the  corner  of  Green,  has  lately  been  erected 


544 


QREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


19 


for  its  reception.  Connected  with  this  school,  which  haf. 
ten  professors,  and  three  assistants,  is  an  observatory 
furnished  with  a  powerful  telescope  and  other  astro- 
nomical instruments.  The  number  of  scholars 
between  five  and  six  hundred. 

Until  recently,  Philadelphia  had  but  few  places  for 
public  worship  of  any  great  architectural  beauty. 
Within  the  last  few  years,  however,  several  costly  and 
elegant  churches  have  been  erected,  and  others  are 
now  being  built.  The  grandest  and  most  expensive  of 
these  will  be  the  Catholic  Cathedral,  near  Logan  Square. 
It  is  constructed  of  red  sandstone,  in  the  Roman  style, 
and  in  the  shape  of  a  cross.  Four  superb  Corinthian 
columns,  sixty  feet  in  height,  and  a  tower  at  each  angle, 
rising  to  the  height  of  one  hundred  and  thirteen  feet, 
adorn  the  main  front  on  Eighteenth  street.  A  dome, 
two  hundred  and  ten  feet  high,  is  to  crown  the  whole. 
The  Episcopal  Church  of  St.  Mark's,  in  Locust  street, 
near  Sixteenth,  ranks  next  to  the  Catholic  Cathedral  in 
point  of  architectural  beauty  and  magnificence.  The 
Tabernacle,  a  new  Baptist  Church,  in  Chestnut  stree', 
is  one  of  the  most  graceful  and  attractive  of  the  remain- 
ing church  edifices. 

The  manufactures  of  Philadelphia  are  extensive,  and 
employ  a  large  amount  of  capital.  Her  locomotives 
are  particularly  celebrated  for  their  speed  and  excel- 
lence. Though  ranking  fourth  among  the  commercial 
cities  of  the  Union  in  foreign  trade,  she  is  steadily 
increasing  even  in  this  respect,  while  her  coasting  trade, 
is  immense,  and  probably  exceeds  that  of  any  city  in 
the  confederacy. 


Every  one  is  Enraptured  w(lh  tho  Book-  Ivtiy  oi.e  will 

i'ead  it! 
SIX  THOUSAND  I' UUU. SI  J  Kl)  IN  THIRTY  DAYS! 

UPS  ANiriJOWNS, 

Or  Silver  Lako  Sketches. 

BY  COUSIN  (-'ICKLV,  Aultior  of  Lewin  or  the  Bemled  I'wiif 

On*  Elegant  limo.  yol.,ii)ilh  Ten  IUu>lr<iH<rwi  by  Coffin,  ctr.d  en;{raved 

by  the  bent  uHut$.     Cloth,  ifitt,  *l;iri. 

ALDE\  ii  MmM\,  Auliiirii  m\  iioilieucr,  N.  Y., 

Pubiiii<'»i. 


The    CrilicH 


(rive    it    Uii'iHuliJitd  Crmnnndahor: 

o'ousin  Cicely's  "I.pwic,  or  th«  |}f ruled  Twig,"  piibliflied  iiiid  wiUt. 
.Tad  not  long  ngo,  wn»  a  vnlutno  to  uliarpftn  llin  rf.ider's  nppetite  for 
"more  of  the  Biiiilc  sun."  •  •  •  »  »  ••()■!«  and  Downs'  is  ji  clustel 
of  sUntches  and  incidfnfs  in  rnni  lifo,  nam tfd  with  :i  ;.'r;icn  of  ihougli  t 
and  How  of  cxprpssion  r.irfly  to  tin  iiict,  Tlie  sketches  well  r  itit)"  "he 
volume  to  its  name,  for  lUe.y  are  \ui'Uir4;»  iil  iwiiiy  nidt-H  of  life — some 
grave,  some  pay,  soino  c.hpunnfx  mid  itoin«  s.id,  pcrvideJ  by  a  ifuiiia! 
spirit,  and  dr^vnionin^  i.'ood  iiit>rnl» 

iMtlier  of  the  fifieen  ^^ketchrft  will  nniply  repay  the  imrcliiser  of  the 
volume,  and  uidess  our  yulfftnent  it  t'lilne,  li/ter  a  earejid  readin'^.-Viia 
and  Downs"  will  make  an  IliiprnNKion  licywnd  -'the  pleasant  oifect  t  > 
while  away  a  few  nnoccu()ied  iiiohmmiIii,"  'I'he  Fnblislnrj  have  nivea 
('ousin  (;icfcly'8  gems  a  mMtnif  woriliy  of  their  Itrilliincy.  'I'ho  ton  il- 
lustraiions  are  capital  in  i\f,'iiin  and  oxeuiitioii,  and  it  strikes  us  aa  re- 
markable how  sufh  a.  volumn  can  l»n  |)roliiabiy  go*  up  at  the  price  for 
which  it  is  sold.  The  ttocrel  iniidt  li$  in  liri^o  f;irculati'>n— wIacIi  "Ups 
and  Downs"  is  certain  to  secure, — A'   V  i'ntninq  Mirror. 

Who  is  (Cousin  Ciceli/t — tVe  bogin  lo  think  'N.iisin  t^icely  iasomebodj, 
and  feel  dispiit^cd  to  asK.  who  li  tihtt  I  'iVo  s -veral  irionthi  ai^o  notiited 
her  "Lewie"  in  this  journal.  It  in  «  story  with  a  fine  mord,  beautiful 
and  touching  in  its  development.  It  has  alrea<ly  (|uietly  mule  its  wav 
to  a  circulation  of  <wclu«  M'nMa/t(/,  "without  licatin.(  a  drum  orcrviiij 
oysters."  I'rctty  good  evideiicn  that  there  is  tamething  in  it.  Our  re  id- 
crs  have  alread\  had  a  taiile  uf'lffiii  and  Patvm,"  for  we  find  .iinoni;  its 
contents  a  story  entitled  ";WU»  Todd,  M,  IJ  ,ot  a  DUeaie  of  the  Huart," 
which  was  pulilished  in  this  journal  ii  ''■'w  months  ago  iVe  venture  to 
lay  that  no  one  who  read  has  forg4itteii  it.  and  those  who  reuieuher  it 
will  be  glad  to  know  where  they  citii  tind  plenty  mure  of  the  "s.iiite 
•ort,"— I/.  S.  Journal. 

*  •  •  Sketchesof  life  an  it  is,  and  of  HOuie  things  as  the^  should  bej 
all  drawn  with  a  li'ilit  pencil,  and  abounding  with  touches  ot  real  genius. 
Cousin  Cicelv  has  im|)ruv«d  Uor  former  good  reputatiou  in  our  opinion,  by 
tJijg  effort.— 5'A«  WetUyan 


vm 


I    r.  h\()<y  rii\i(.r:i\(i  uooK  or  rnK  sr,\sov. 

(        I ,  ■  n-M'."  I»y  "CuiMiii  Cict-Iy,"  wo  liavt?   rcn-nty  spoknn 
'.1  hTiiH  <i)' iirniii  ilirti'd   pr.ii-«n.      '('oii^in  Circly"  in  ly  lako  tior 
riiiil<  wii):  till'  m-vcriil  ii'iiiirkubly  Ml|(;c•l':^^^lll   t'l'iniilt*  Miithdi's 
fill'  (l.iy.  »iii>.  w'iilim  till*  l.ist  two  or  tliioc  v(Mri,  hive  croaluJa 
publu-  III. nil. I  fur  li'iii'li!   lilLTitnr.;. — .V.  V,  Mirror. 

»  •  '  'CIk!  HiiiricB  ire  filffiiKiii^ly  uritleii.  'I'lieie  iire  iii;iir.' pitdctic 
d»'nrrif)ti«mi<  1111(1  liwiiy  uIIip'-b  con'^oiliii,'  n  kikmI  di!  il  ol'  c?civeri  .md  «cil- 
nitTi'i- !  » ilim  W'li  111  il..  II  ■  folic. wiiiif  extr  hi  IVdiii  ii  hKcIi  h  eiilJMcd 
"Aiici  i  lul.  .Vl  ''  i<r  il  UmeiiMi  of  till  lloiri  ;"  I'ldm  tlie  imrirolm  (it'  a 
younj  I  iM\«'r.     'Vii<<  r-xtr.ift  will  i^'ivo  a  itmpio  nftlio  :iiilli(ir's  st;  Ir. 

•'Ill  l\ieio''i(H>  1)1  lli«  iMK-riiiiiin,  if  I  iiiv  iI|i.im  iln  mi(.\,  with  my  liniiil  iirK^pd 
UlMin'iiu  lic.iil,  III  Ktill  11-  irriBilar  iiiilM.itiiin.i,  tin  re  wim  ii  wift  t.iji  at  tlie  il  ...t. 
•(y'liiiM  II  ,'  I  .iind  tirl,  id  d  In  ill)  "irnjio  In  Mi.|i|.(<;l  tliO  iir, ilc.it,  liri)ililp«t, 
mi/>t    lii'irriil  liK.itiiiii  little  w.iiii.iii  il  ijiiil  cviir  biou    ny  lul  tii  iini't. 

"  'Yd'i  M'l.l  fi-r  nil'.  I  lieliiive  mrr'  .-Ik'  ^iiiil  in  ,i  Ini-K.  iilcaKuiil  w.iy. 

"  'I,'    N.',  .Miid.iMi— >.r  I  jrc  I  ill.  rii'i:  uikIci-  a  i  i  iii.c. ' 

"  ' All!  I  lir>!  lurdiiii,'  hhiiI  tlic  liUlc  wi.iiiiiii  ;  I  CiriMl  on  iiividiiln  tlit<  immo 
of  .Mr.  II  ililii-,  .\  p.  1 1,  \lr».  (ir.)..'  Iii..iidiiii;  luniio,  with  n  iri|  ic  I  II.  il  I  w..  ilil 
call  Hid  ni'<>  liiiii.' 

"  'Voir  Hliili',  iiiiid.'iiii  !  I  i.\.  I  iliiitd,  H'j  .wtoiii.sl.iiioMt  ill'  riMJilij;  f  very  imi 
iiioiit — •villi  i(r«  M.ircly  in. I  ii ' 

" 'l'li>  lie  lull '■  >•■  .  »if.'  "liB  iiil(Tr'i|iiod  (|iiii'!.'y;  •I'm  a  (iliy>icii>ii  ;  Mr. 
Tiid  ' 

"  'U\trii(irilliiar>  !'  wn.<iill  tlint  I  nmlil  »;iy  :  fur.  tliniich  I  In. I  hoard  ;;i  .idis- 
tuiicv,  lit  H.ii  II  a  Ileum,  (liu  wim  my  llr^t  iiitnidiit  lion  tu  a  ivnule  practitumiir 
of  the  Eiiciila|.i;aii  art.'  " 

[A.    r.  Di'upakk. 

(?(Nltin  Cicftly  I  iR  «tudi)>d  hmn  in  iiilnro,  iind  exort-Ke.i  her  vjnwg 
eiisily  anil  ^ricet'ully  Well  written  Bketclipn,  i.nl  m  c.ilculiuid  to  re- 
prove the  (i)lliPi  iiii()  vinns  oflifi!  Thov  wiU  Im  rtti.l.  :iii(l  wh.a  i.s  betler, 
they  will  leu\e  a.  good  iiiifMnssiiiii Ocnexee  Ecan;j;eliil 

These  BketclitM  ar«  pii-tnros  ot  iinny  sidcjil  lil'i.  'I'lie  ^'nivc  1  ;riy, 
fh<»  livply  mill  •Rvnri;,  tin   s-id  uiid  jjl  id,  tlic  tortrii!  o!'  iiniapii  1  trin 

niiHliirluiiPM  ot'rfiverKf.  an  all  dHpi'iterl  with  a  Inlicitv  ofexpri-.M  .i  tint 
I*  rare  In  tliinday  of  •writiiii.'  lorull'ict."  '['Iii're  is  lli>^'lr  iiiiiii;  or  •  liijdi- 
tulutin,''  iiu  i;oiinlril(;tioii  iif  mere  w  t  la  for  tim  sake  of  tlieir  .wii  jini,'le, 
no  apiie.il  to  bad  prm'doiiii.  iind  no  in  "Itorl  at  liurnor  It'  w«  iiii.slake 
not,  thin  hci  !i  In  dentined  to  have  a»lari;e  *alo  — lioch   America,i 

*  *  "•  '1  liprn  is  n  l>eshn"--<i  .md  iiatnndness  a  mut  the  nketc!ie» 
whioh  iiiikc  tlifin  [■   .nilar  willi  .ilmost  all  (.laabcs  —  A'    Y  Dwj  lioo'i 

W-  do  not  kno"  f  a  writer  whose  works  evl.ice  a  purer  or  more 
wjiolc  .  me  ta»te.  his  book  in  -ketches  under  tiie  above  title,  is  like 
her  runner  priidiicl ions,  of  a  very  iiperior  tone  'I'lie  •  V  Hniioi  '"ousiii." 
and  tlio  ".Xdiiptod  JJ.iUj/;hter."  are  rich  in  q'jiet  hiiinor,  and  thi     aier  pe- 


these   liard 


culiarly  no  in  depth  ol  Teeliii;.'  and  line  sentiniMit  ;  while  the  -i^essoii  of 
''unteiitmont'   is  one    which  everv  per.snn  oui;lit  to  reid,  in  th 
till,  s— t>Wt?an*  Ke;  •iblican 

Cousin  Cicely  Utir  j-.rqiijred  an  enviable  reputation  asa  wr  'erof  plons- 
inij  storieH  'I'hi  sketches  in  this  work  are  l'i;'ilv  inter. ;stin,  and  at  the 
same  time  of  a  high  inorl  character.  The  book  vVill  have  a  it  sale.— 
Newark   U'Aiff. 


I 


L 


%    ,.. 


I 


Till'.  MOSI'  CIIAKMINd  UOI^k  Ul'    llll-.  SI'.NSON. 

*,*  \Vb  linv«  I'l-mi  i'<r|ily  inlrrrftfil  in  roiiiiny  •oiiic  ot'  the  ihcct!*. 
'I'Ik*  viv;irit\  1(1' 111.-  iiiiiriinf  mid  (1iii|m|;iic  is  ailtiiir  il)lii.  'I'he  cl..>ri(Mors 
urn  well  fiiliibil('(l  itiid  llie  I.IU  iif  Itcf  (Mimitrv  |.<Mi|.le  li  jjivijii  ■  illi  fin- 
(}iil  ir  (:iirrt'i:tni"a.  and  with  a  pociiii  ir  iiliarni.  Viri'ie  linds  it  fward, 
and  II  uood  mural  loi. ■  markK  llir  flury.  SVo  |irf?dK  I  lliat  ihp  '  .  pn  an '. 
|i(,«ns  '  will  bf  a  ravnnlti  with  thif  [mhlii;  It  is  not  n  dccperite  ed'iirt 
t'lir  pii|nilaritv.  All  is  p-nv  and  aiiiiahiB,  ani!  tlio  rtsuli-r  nut  onlv  hiiiiiir», 
1)111  lovch  till'  kind  ^'l•llill.  III- irt-nioviiijf  and  Ik  art-|)iirirviiii.;  inllucnrc  "f 
thfi  »U>ry  which  ia  iiiakiii<j:  Iiih  iiiiiu  IIv  so  raindlv.— A'.  I  .  i:vmmK  Minor. 

('mi-iin  (Mi'lv  lia:(  iiiiili)  liiTHcir  well  kiuiwii  till-  «iiild  (ivrr  bv  lior 
hiaiilil'nl  sk(  I'  1  th.  Her  fIi  iii.-  .irr  iiTi'f  up  <i|  tiinifr,  Keiiliiiioiit.  sernioii 
I'.ii'cv.  tfi-siv.  and  pliilnsniiliv,  aiiiiisin;il.v  iiiingUMl  in  a  manner  greatly  to 
iiitcifst  'J  lie  present  (oiuini!  aKruiiiLs  more  the  lirni  iit  connected  tales, 
ti.e  iilijeit  nl  wlii':h  nil  all  he  ti>  ••pniiit  a  iiiinal.  "  The  aiithori'Si",  willi 
cafe  and  eicyaiKf,  liis  tent  tuit  her  hiickc  tii  iiifti  n.  I  ami  iniprnve  the 
re'iler.  'Ihrv  ahoiind  in  rich  moral  tone  and  heautiliil  description  — De 
truit  Daily    'ilvtrUitf. 

»  •  *  .  glance  lit  its  pages"  cuiivince  ns  tint  its  stOe  ia  beautiful 
niid  its  jis^iB  lull  of  iiiKreat.  It  takes  u.i  hick  to  our  old  homen.  or  it 
trannporttTus  to  oth.>.r  clinins.  |)ortrayiiig  as  ilu  title  indicates. 'Ups  and 
L'owiiH." — .Vi/".i  /•.';i(/iii/'(c,  Mich 

roiisin  ''icely.  nhdcvpr  kIip  may  he.  is  H  hij,'hl)'  v.ilued  relative  of  the 
hiiiii  III  Ciiiiilv  She  pi  «sesM;ii  a  iViiid  (if  good  leeli  i;;  and  good  senne,  and 
has  BO  iiiii(h"iin<iuestioii:ilile  strength,  that  she  can  afford  to  be  natural. 
Ill  present  in;,'  her  lnte^e^llll.,'  reminiscences  she  proceeiia  in  ii  straight, 
forw.ird  manner,  and  I'dU  ht^r  storv  m  uiiaH'ected  and  often  in  beautiful 
niid  impressive  language,  ner  foriiii^r  productions  have  procured  a  place 
for  her  in  nni'V  hearts,  and  the  present  sketches  fully  sustain  her  position. 
I'hev  are  livel\ .  viiiorous.  ami  always  to  the  purpose,  frequently ^illusira- 
tiiig'an  impoitant  moral  truth  by  a  "powerful  imrrative~iv     Y.    Tribune. 

The  voliiinf!  hel'ore  us  is  from  the  pen  of  one  whose  writings  we  have 
always  ailmiicd— and  the  cause  of  <inr  admiration  may  be  |'ouiid  in  their 
liatiiralness.feeliiiL' and  urare  We  (ind  here  no  less  than  hfteen  sketrlies 
—each  one  skiilluliy  ami  suicesMl'ully  wrought. and  all  containing  thoughts 
for  which  trieir  author  will  he  cordially  thanked     "Cousin  Cicely"  knows 

nil  about  ■• 

-'  die  staff  that   lifo   is  made  of," 

and  uses  tint  knowhwl^e  t-o  excellent  advantage.  It  is  sure  of  a  cordial 
welcome. — Jivjj'alo  Kxpremi 

The  tirst  story  in  the  collection  is  a  good  Matured  saiiro  on  female  doc- 
lors.  A  young  lawyer  fancies  himsell  afflicted  by  an  organic  disease  (if 
the  heart.  A  pl.\i-iciai.s  Is  sunimoiied,  and  comes  in  the  shape  of  an  ii.- 
tcllii;enl  voiiiiji  la'dv.  iMiKS  '!  od.  iM.  I),  'i'he  result  of  ihe  acquaintance 
thus  I'l-m'ed  is  a  reitiprocal  attachment;  for  "nee.  "the  course  of  true  love 
dots  run  smooth."  and  Miss  Tod  consent  .^;Luuif  a  resident  physician 
— A^  Y.  Commercial  Adcatiser. 

♦  •  *  Social  scenes  in  overy-day  life,  gottia.  ., notched  designed 
to  entcri  !  11  a  quiet  hour  ofrehaation,  and  iuculcaics  hiijh  mo.  •!  lessons. 
—  Hor,'.'    'tnimctl. 


Great  Bomanoe  Coming;— A  Book  for  the  Timea! 
Or  WomanN  Rights  and  Spiritualism. 

ILLUSTRATING    THE    FOLLIES    AND    DELUSIONS    OF  Till;   XIXtii 
CENTUUV. 

BY    FRFO.    FOLIO, 

"  This  is  the  age  of  oddities  let  loose." 

A  beautiful  121PM.  vol.,  400  pp.  with  ten  illiistratioiii)  by  (otHn, 

Cluth,   gilt,   S1,'J5. 

ALUKN  a,  BEARDSLEY,  Auburn  and  Uochestir,  N.  Y., 

i'ublitlicrs. 
Advance  Opinions  of  the  Press. 

•  *  Xone  will  be  more  anxious  to  reml  It  than  those  who  prnctio* 
the  follteB  It  illustriiteH,  and  their  name  la  legion.  The  book  will  huve  • 
run.— Rocheater  Union. 

'  *  *  This  book  is  precisely  whiit  the  "times"  demnnd— a  derided  "hit," 
ana  will  accomplish  much  good.  We  predict  fur  her  a  brilliant  career. 
Success  to  "Fred  Folio."— Oi/»rrf  Times 

*  *  *  The  Biiliject  and  Its  apposlteness  to  the  excitements  i>t  the  day, 
well  lead  the  publishers  to  expect  a  large  and  prompt  vale.  VVIielhcr  we 
do  or  do  not  know  I'red.  Folio — vnMuay  state  hereafter.— C//ita  il/or;* 
ing  Herald. 

*  *    *    If  here   is  nui    i  budget  of  fun,  we  are  mistaken.    No  work  hai 
been  announced  of  late  that  will  be  so  readily  sought  for  as  Lucy  Uoston 
— liotne  Sentine/. 

*  *  *  If  "Fred,  f  lio"  is  as  fortunate  in  "illustrating"  as  selecting  his 
theme,  well  may  the  publishers  announce  it  "A  book  for  the  times."  VVo 
hope  for  an  early  introduction  to  "Lucy,"— i4/Anny  Argii.':. 

'  *  *  A  more  appropriate  subject  for  a  u)i»i/ pen  couhl  (It  be  found.  If 
"Fred  Folio,"  (of  whom  we  know  nothing,)  has  done  jtistice  to  his  au/>- 
iect,  the  publishers  will  have  a  busy  time  in  supplying  the  demand.  We 
nope  to  Fee  "Lucy"  on  the  course  soon,  and  shall   be   greatly  surprised  if 

"Uncle  Tom"  is  not  left  behind,  in  the  run  she  is  destined   to  make 

Bitighamton  Daily  Republican. 

*  *  *  The  title  and  character  of  the  forthcoming  work  will  ensure  for  it 
an  extensive  sale.  That  it  will  bo  well  worth  reading,  we  have  a  sufficient 
guarantee  in  the  good  taste  and  proverbial  caution  of' tjie  enterurisinf 
publishers.— j4uAurn  Daily  American. 

*  *.*  ^'x^b  an  opening  for  a  capital  burlesque  does  Bot  often  present  it- 
self.    If  Fred   Folio  is  equal   'o  the  task  assumed,  look  out  for  a  side- 

i     splitting  romance.    There  will  be  no  end  to  the  sale  until  everybody  has 
1     veru:ieii  it.— Walervtlle  Journal. 

*  *  A  fit  subject  for  a  most  ludicrous  "illustration,"  and  this  is  what 
we  judge  the  above  announced  book  to  be.  We  shall  look  for  "Lucy 
Bost(m,"  with  much  interest,  and  expect  to  enjoy  a  hearty  laugh  oD 
making  her  acquaintance — Daily  Evening  Watch-  'j'oiper.  Adrian,  Wi'cA. 

►  *  *  The  book  will  bo  sought  after  with  avidity,  and  command  an  un. 
precedented  sale C/iiUenan^o  Ileruld. 

*  *  *  A  prolific  and  "taking"  theme,  truly,  and  one  whi.  Ii  a  master 
pen  could  make  much  of.  We  have  an  inkling  of  who  Frc.l.  I'olio  is  and 
know  him  to  be  possessed  of  the  requisite  talent  to  weave  inti  :i  bril'liant 
fabric  the  'Follies  and  Delusions  of  the  N'ineteenth  Century.'— U/i.-ic/a  Chitf 


^t*';* 


Four  Thouaand  in  Thirty  Sayil 

TWO  ERAS"^  FRANCE 

Otw  volume  l2mo.,  (uniform  with  Lewie  and  Pearl  FiahingJ 
308  pages, 

*^*  In  the  Stories  of  the  Revolution,  the  author  hag  detailed 
the  mourniul  history  of  the  "  Dauplun,"  and  presented  a  summa- 
ry of  tho  evidence  so  far  discovered,  in  regard  to  that  most  inter- 
esting historical  question— </u!  idinlity  of  the  Rev.  Eleazer  Wi/- 
liama  with  Louis  XVll. 

Muslin,  Gill,  $1,  Gill  Edges,  $1.JS,  Full  Gilt  Edges  &  Sides,  $1.7§. 

VVANZlill,  BEAKUSLEY  &.  Co.,  Uociiesler,  N,  Y.,  \  '""'"' '"' 
NOTICES    OF    THE    PRESS. 

•  •  •  We  have  rend  this  volume  with  a  good  decree  of  BatiiPactioii 
snd  interest.  *  •  *  The  aoul-stirring  events  of  tho  incarceration  of  the 
Dauphin,  I'rince  Louis  XVII.  his  probable  escape  throuch  the  aid  of  the 
friends  of  the  reigning  King,  and  the  evidence  pro  and  con,  relating  to 
tho  claims  of  Kev.  kleazer  Williams,  now  a  missionary  in  this  country, 
to  be  the  identical  person— the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne  of  France,  in 
place  of  the  present  incumbent. — Ontario  Metsenger. 

»  *  •  A  most  interesting  volume.  We  need  but  mention  the  fact 
that  the  author  has  selected  for  his  stories  two  of  the  most  important 
periods  in  the  annals  of  France.  To  tho  general  reader,  as  well  as  to 
the  scholar,  this  portion  of  French  history  is  confessedly  remarkable  lor 
its  intense  interest.— Syracu»«  Journal. 

•  •  *  The  author  treats  of  the  Williams  Dauphin  question,  and  has 
stated  the  arguments,  and  pronounced  it  "  at  least  highly  probable"  that 
Mr  W  is  the  Uauphin.  This  volume  will  be  found  a  very  attractive  one 
to  yiiung  readers,  iind  should  have  a  place  in  all  the  libranes  for  young 
men.— Evening  Mirror,  New-  Vork. 

»  *  »  These  stories  traversu  one  of  the  most  deeply  interesting  pe- 
riods of  French  History.  *  •  A  fine  steel  engraving  of  the  leverend 
gentleman  prefaces  the  volume.— 7%e  Medina  IVhig. 

•  •  *  Thrillini' -vents.  The  revolution  of  1789  stands  distinguished 
for  deep  and  world-wide  interest.  ♦  •  The  fate  of  the  helpless  lufaut 
Dauphin  has  excited  the  deepest  emotions  of  the  civilized  wor  d.  VVhat- 
ever  relates  to  these  events  is  read  with  interest.  *  *  *  ."'»'»''"^; 
fore  with  peculiar  pleasure  that  we  have  perused  the  late  issue,  full 
of  startling  incident,  and  withal  bearing  the  stamp  of  truth  on  all  its 
pages,  it  cannot  fail  to  entertain  and  instruct  him  who  sits  down  to  itf 
peruse.1. — Lima  Visitor. 


*  •  •  y,  remarkable  and  Intense  interest  to  the  general  reade  and 
the  icholar.  *  *  *  Its  contents  are  worthy  of  examination.— /"a/mvra 
OUe  Book. 

*  #  •  >pj,g  fjptg  which  are  given  to  piove  the  identity  of  Mr.  VVil- 
hams  with  the  Dauphin,  arw  of  an  exceedingly  interesting  character,  and 
deserve  a  careful  examination.  The  extraordinary  resemblance  which 
Uie  Indian  Missionary  bears  to  the  portraits  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Louis 
Xyill.  is  not  the  least  remarkable  part  of  the  matter.  We  commend 
this  readable  book  to  the  attention  of  our  friends,  as  one  well  worthy  of 
notice. — Fred.  Douglasg'  Paper,  Rochester. 

*  •  •  Two  of  the  most  interesting  periods  in  all  the  n/story  of  that 
nation.  •  *  *  Some  of  tiie  more  striking  points  in  the  history  of  those 
evente. — Rochester  Daily  Advertiser. 

*  *  *  The  sketches  are  written  in  pleasant  style,  and  are  authen- 
tic. *  *  It  can  be  read  with  pjeasi  -e  and  profit  by  all  persons 
who  would  have  a  correct  statement  of  tw  most  important  events.— 
Rochester  Daily  American. 

*  *  *'-^^^  f'**^  °f '-''8  Hugenota  of  France— and  the  mysterious  his- 
fory  of  the  Daupnin  or  son  of  Louis  XIV.,  constitute  the  points  of  attrac- 
Uon  in  this  book — The  Wesleyan,  Syracuse,  N.  K. 

*  *    •    These  are  portions  of  history  of  remarkable  interest.    •    * 
Every  new  book  upon  the  subject  is   eagerly  snatched  up  by  the 

public,  especially  by  a  lively  and  graphic  pen,  like  the  one  which  drew 
these  sketches.  The  work  is  replete  with  interest,  and  will  repay  a  pe- 
rusal. *  *  *  The  author's  object  has  been  to  re-produce  these  great 
eras  with  vividness  and  fr.jshness,  rather  tlian  to  express  any  novel  views 
respecting  them.  He  has  certainly  produced  viviu  pictures,  and  con- 
densed  a  variety  of  historic  information  that  ought  to  be  in  every  read- 
er s  possession.  The  idea  is  a  capital  one,  which  ought  to  be  more  fully 
carried  out.  The  reader  may  be  assured  of  a  very  impressive  and  reada- 
ble book. — N.  Y.  TMbune. 

*  *  *  The  volume  will  be  found  a  very  attractive  one  to  youne 
readers  ?nd  should  have  a  place  in  all  the  libraries  for  youna  men— i\^ 
Jr.  Mirror.  ° 

*  *  •  This  is  a  book  of  great  interest  and  excellence.  It  contains 
two  stories;  but  each  one  is  full  of  stirring  events;  each  developes  an 
era  in  the  history  of  France.— ifoston  Traveller. 

This  work  is  of  great  interest  and  of  usefulness  to  the  general  reader 
the  student  and  statistician.  It  is  a  sketch  o*"  Biographies,  ihrilling  in-' 
cidents  and  recitals,  replete  with  Historical  Fact  and  valuable  informa- 
tion, divested  of  the  prolixity  which  necessarily  appertains  to  standard 
Historir  works.  *  *  •  We  commend  the  book  as  a  digest  of  Histo- 
ry.— riie  American  Citizen. 


Six  Thousand  in  Sixty  Days!       Dickens'  New  Br  ok! 


Comprising  seleclions  from  that  admirable  publication,  ''Dick- 
ens' Household  f Fords." 
First  Series.— 1  vol.  12mo.,  (uniform  with  Lewie,)  price  ^1.00 

ALDEN,  BEARnSLEY  St,  Co.,  Auburn   NY,         ) 
WANZER,  BEARD3LEY  &  Co.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  I  Pvblishen 

This  volume  is  ihe  first  in  ?i  series  gathered  from  the  same  pub 
lication.  It  is  enriched  with  an  admirable  likeness  of  Dickens, 
engraved  for  this  work.  The  Publishers  commend  the  volume  as 
pure  m  Eentiment,  wholesome  in  morals,  and  abounding  in  such 
incident  and  interest  as  cannot  fail  to  secure  a  friendly  reception 
and  a  wide  circulation  with  American  readers.  (Second  seriod 
will  bepiiblished  .July  1st,  1854.) 

So  say  the  Prtss—Short  Extracts  from  Lengthy  Notices. 

it  is  not  a  story  of  pearl  diving  in  the  Indian  seas,  but  a  choice  collec- 
tion of  pearls  fished  from  Dickens'  llomehold  Words,  and  strung  together 
as  an  ornament  for  the  library  and  the  parlor.  •  •  *  •  Such  a  selec- 
tion of  Dickens'  own  gems  is  quite  a  favor  to  his  admirers  in  the  United 
States.  *  •  *  »  The  story  of  Lizzie  Leigh  is  alone  worth  the  prica 
of  the  volume.— A^.  y.  Independent. 

It  was  a  good  thought  of  the  publishers  to  collect  the  best  stories  of  the 
Household  Words  into  acceptable  volumes,  printed  in  large  new  type,  on 
good  paper,  to  please  fastidious  readers  like  ourselves,  and  to  entice  even 
aged  people  to  the  perusal.  *  *  »  This  series  should  command  t 
large  circulation,  if  good  taste  in  the  choice  of  fictitious  literature  ha» 
not  died  out  with  the  success  of  Hot  Corn  and  similar  atrocities.— iV  V 
Itmes. 

*  *  •  The  book  contains  a  charming  selection  of  the  best  stories 
from  "  Dickens'  Household  Words."  •  »  *  Most  valuable  and  inter- 
esting publication,  handsomely  printed  in  the  large  type,  open  page,  which 
are  happily  superseding  the  absurd,  crowded,  and  illegible  pages  which 

the  cheap  publication  system  has  imoosed  upon  the  American  public 

New  York  Day  Book. 

These  stories,  selected  from  Dickens'  Household  Words,  make  a  hand 
tOKiP  volume,  with  a  fine  likeness  of  their  author.     It  is  a  capital  thought 
to  gather  up  such  of  those  interesting  papers  as  wiil  be  of  most  interest 
to  the  American  reader. — Providence  Vaily  Post. 

*  *  *  In  gathering  these  choice  stories  the  selection  has  been  mad« 
of  such  as  furnish  the  most  brilliancy  and  value.  *  »  »  Replete  with 
incident  and  absorbing  interest,  from  beginning  to  end.  And  what  ia 
more  and  better,  the  lessons  they  teach  are  of  the  purest  morality.    * 

*  •  The  stories  have  point  and  force,  ind  will  be  read  by  all,  old  aas* 
»oung,  with  delight  and  pro&t.—Aitbum  /Jcily  Advertiser. 


This  is  a  collection  of  beautiful  stories  from  Dickens'  Household 
Words.    This  boolt  will  deserve  a  great  sale. — Hartford  Daily  Courant 

*  *  »  It  embraces  some  of  Dickens'  best  contributions  to  that  ad- 
mirable publication,  "WcAeiw'  Household  Words,"— -Troy  Daily  Times. 

The  admirers  of  Charles  Dickens  will  have  an  opportunity  to  supply 
themselves  with  some  of  his  choice  productionn  — Delroit  Daily  Adver- 
tiser. 

»  f  *  Of  their  merits  the  world-wide  famt.  of  the  author  obviates 
Ihe  necessity  of  our  speaking.  Kach  of  them  is  a  '•  I'e.irl  "  of  sterling 
value,  and  they  only  need  to  be  read  to  be  admired,  bv  all  capable  of  ap 
prociating  high  and  noble  sentiments.— -iJctrott  Daily  Fribune. 

*  *  *  The  contents  of  the  volume  before  us  are  flir  above  the  com 
mon  run  of  -'polite  literature"  of  the  day.  Mr.  IMckeiiN*  writings  ai 
ways  leave  the  impress  of  a  ouick  perception,  and  a  mind  alive  to  the 
things  around  him. — Ontario  Messenger. 

*  *  *  Destined  to  fill  libraries  with  a  kind  of  literature  ac.once 
tasteful  and  choice.  *  *  *  No  person  who  prizes  the  writings  of 
Charles  Dickens,  will  fail  to  welcome  this  new  candidate  for  the  public 
favor.  The  idea  of  bringing  them  out  in  this  form  is  a  happy  one,  and 
must  succeed  -Syracuse  Journal. 

*  *  *  This  is  a  most  excellent  collection.  A  more  entertaining 
book  it  would  be  difficu'.t  to  find,  containing,  as  it  does,  some  of  Dickens' 
most  admired  sketches.  *  »  *  The  Household  Words  have  a  repu- 
tation whicli  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  that  its  best  gems  cannot  fail  to  be- 
come popular. — Philadelphia  Neuts. 

*  *  *  Literary  pearls  They  are  the  best  of  Dickens'  writings.  The 
work  18  beautifully  printed  and  excellently  Lound. — Lima  VUntor. 

*  *  *  The  work  is  edited  with  tact — the  pathetic  and  humerous  hap- 
py alternating,  compelling  the  reader  to  first  weep,  and  then  roar  with 
laughter. — O.  O,  Trade  List. 

*  *  *  It  is  a  ('-ct  that  the  waters  of  "  Household  Words  "are  prom- 
ising for  "pearls."  *  »  *  Lizzie  Leigh  is  beautiful,  most  beautiful — 
one  of  Dickens'  best  stories.  It  alone  is  worth  at  least  half  the  price  of 
the  volume. —  Western  Literary  Messenger. 

*  *  *  Tales  of  permanent  interest  and  value,  which  are  well  worth 
catherinj;  like  scattered  pearls  and  arranging  in  this  tasteful  and  enduring 
lorm.—Loekport  Advertiser. 

*  *  *  The  merits  of  this  little  work  are  so  prominent  we  cannot 
forbear  a  few  words  in  its  favor.  Lizzie  Leigh  embodies  much  sympathy 
with  deep  interest,  giving  lasting  impressions  upon  the  reader.  Father 
and  Son;  The  Miner's  Daughter;  Loaded  Dice;— are  all  excellent  com- 
positions, and  will  well  pay  the  reader's  attention.— Uroc/cporf  Weekly 
Journal, 


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